


Draco's Mishaps

by Donar (Dunar)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Bladder shyness, Bullying, Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Urination, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 71,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunar/pseuds/Donar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco just started his third year at Hogwarts. He made a new friend in his classmate Theodore and everything would be great if it weren't for Potter and his constant bullying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday, September 6th

**Author's Note:**

> Contains omorashi. If you don't like it or don't know what that is, this story probably isn't for you.

Draco was on his way to to the dungeons for his afternoon potions lesson. His third year at Hogwarts had just started a week ago and he was looking forward to the class. He liked potions. Not only did Draco have a natural aptness for the subject, Professor Snape, their head of house, was teaching it, and he was easily Draco's favorite teacher.

The sun had been shining all day, and even though it was already Autumn, it was quite hot, so Draco had been drinking plenty of pumpkin juice at lunch. However, none of that heat had made its way down to the dungeons. As he stepped out of the sunlit stairwell and into the gloomy corridor, he was hit by the cool, damp air and he involuntarily shivered. At the sudden chill, he felt a small nudge from his lower abdomen, reminding him of where all that pumpkin juice had gone. He'd better take a quick detour to the loo before class.

There was a bathroom near their potions classroom, and usually it was deserted, too. No one strayed down here except for potions lesson. That was an important consideration, because Draco didn't like crowded toilets. But when he was just a few steps away and about to quickly slip into the bathroom, the door opened and out stepped Potter and Weasley of all people. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, his hand almost automatically darted into his pocket and closed around his wand. For a second he hoped the two might ignore him and just head to class, but no such luck. Weasley had seen him, and they both got out their wands as well, staring at him.

Draco didn't want to seem like a coward, so he started walking again. The two were blocking the way to the loo, and they weren't moving. He went past them and continued down the hallway towards their classroom. There was no way in hell he would ask them to step aside so he could use the loo, it was way too embarrassing. He didn't have to go that bad anyways. He could feel their stares on his back and it made the hair in his neck stand straight up, but he did not give them the satisfaction to turn around. They'd be mad if they tried anything here.

Draco still gave a silent heave of relief when he stepped though the classroom door. He quickly went over to his friends Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle and sat down next to Theodore Nott in the row behind them. He and Theo had known each other longer than he could remember. Their fathers were old friends, and the Notts were every bit as ancient and pure-blooded as the Malfoys. When they were younger, Theo's dad had come visit Draco's parents quite regularly and he usually had brought Theo to play with Draco. They had gotten along well enough. Still were, in fact. Draco thought so at least, and Theo hadn't given him any reason to believe he thought otherwise, yet Draco was hesitant to call him a friend. He secretly eyed Theo. To be honest, Draco wasn't sure the stringy boy even had real friends. Didn't talk much. A bit of a loner, usually kept to himself.

Draco was rather partnered with him than Crabbe or Goyle, though. Those two boors were useful for menial tasks, but they couldn't be trusted not to blow up their potion. Theo might have been a bit odd, but at least he wasn't an idiot like them.

He got distracted from his thoughts as Professor Snape entered the classroom and audibly closed the door behind himself. He immediately started his lesson and told them to open their books. As Professor Snape went on explaining to them the potion they would be brewing the next day, Draco found it hard to focus on the subject. His bladder gave him another twinge to remind him of its fullness. He shifted around on his chair, trying to find a position that would ease the pressure in his lower stomach a bit. It didn't help and he gave up and instead started nervously scissoring his legs. Theo eyed him questioningly, Draco blushed and forced his legs to stay still. He eyed the clock, class had hardly started, still thirty minutes to go. He silently groaned. Damn pumpkin juice!

Twenty more minutes passed and Draco was starting to grow desperate. He pressed his legs together tightly and as he felt another spasm from his bladder, he had to grab himself to keep anything from escaping. He moaned and slightly bent over. He had to piss so bad! Just forcing himself to sit still took all his concentration, so Theo had to nudge him before he realized Snape had called his name. Draco looked up.

“Mr. Malfoy, I said: I believe you had prepared a report on the dandelion root!”, Professor Snape repeated himself in slight annoyance.

“Y-yes, Professor! Sorry, Professor”, Draco croaked, panicky searching for his notes.

“Today, if you don't mind, Mr. Malfoy”, Professor Snape said, the irritation now clear in his voice.

Draco found the notes and hurriedly got up. His bladder jerked at the sudden movement and his eyes widened in horror as he felt a small squirt dampen his briefs. He desperately grabbed himself, and for a second he had to cross his legs. Then he realized that all eyes were on him. Someone giggled. The Weasel was pointing at him and whispering to Potter. Draco forced himself to remove the hand from his groin and to walk casually towards the front of the class.

“The-the dandelion is a plant with many uses, its root is a common ingredient in many potions”, he began. Ten minutes! He only had to make it ten more minutes! He felt a jab in his lower abdomen and he lost another squirt as well as his train of thought. Stammering, he came to a halt and had to look at his notes. The front of his briefs felt more than a little wet by now, at least his robes would hide any wetness on his pants. He hoped! He didn't dare to look down to check. Draco uneasily shifted his weight from one leg to the other, but it only seemed to worsen the pressure. He was completely unable to stand still now, he just wished he could grab himself through his robes without anyone noticing.

Potter and Weasley were snickering. Theo eyed him, too. Draco felt like the whole class had caught on on his predicament and was secretly laughing at him. He felt himself blush and wished he could just melt into the floor there and then, but he stubbornly went on with his presentation.

Somehow, he made it through his whole report, though he came to a sudden halt as he read the last point in his notes. He felt his face go red again.

“Therootissometimesusedasanaturaldiuretic”, he muttered.

“What was that last bit?”, Snape asked mercilessly.

Draco swallowed, but he obediently repeated more clearly: “On its own the root is sometimes used as a natural diuretic.”

More giggling.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy”, Professor Snape said, oblivious to the reason for his students' unruliness, “anything to add, Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley?”

The two wiped the nasty grins from their faces and hurriedly shook their heads.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for talking during lesson”, Snape sneered, “if you two wish to pass this year, you would do better to take notes instead the next time you hear such an excellent presentation! Ten points to Slytherin, thank you, Mr. Malfoy! Class is dismissed!”

Draco fled back to his place without another word. When he lowered himself into his chair, he lost another squirt. The table hid him from view and he finally was able to cross his legs again, which he desperately needed. He stifled a silent moan. At least sitting down the pain in his lower abdomen was a tiny bit less intolerable. He dared to finally take a quick look at his crotch, and to his great relief nothing showed on his robe.

Despite his urgent need, he took his time to pack his things. Most other students had already left when he was done, Crabbe and Goyle had long stood up as well and gave him impatient looks.

“Go ahead”, Draco told them, “I'll catch up to you at Defense against the Dark Arts!”

He didn't want anyone to see him run for the loo, not after that disgraceful display just now. He waited for his two goons to leave. As soon as he was alone, he would make a beeline for the toilet. There were only a few straggler Gryffindor girls left, who were chatting with each other as they walked towards the door in an excruciatingly slow pace. Just hurry up and leave already!

Theo was in no hurry either, he had finished packing his things ages ago, but he just lingered in his place. He leaned over and whispered: “What are you waiting for?”

“What?”, Draco feigned confusion.

“You have to go to the loo real bad.” It wasn't a question.

“No, I don't!”, Draco insisted.

“Oh, come on! The whole class could see how bad you had to pee!”

“I DON'T HAVE TO PEE!”, Draco hissed at him. His outburst made the two Gryffindor girls, who were just walking through the door, turn around and look at them. He felt himself blushing.

“OK, OK, my mistake”, Theo agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Draco waited a moment longer, but since Theo apparently didn't plan on leaving any time soon, he got up himself. “See you at Defense against the Dark Arts! Bye!”, he hurriedly muttered.

But just then Theo stood up with him. “Wait!”, he said, “I wanted to talk to you about Quidditch training!”

“Not now! Tonight, OK?”, Draco said desperately.

“I'll just walk with you”, Theo suggested and ran after him.

Draco groaned. Theo continued to talk while he followed him outside and down the hallway. Something about last year's match against Gryffindor. Draco didn't really listen nor did he care. His bladder was throbbing so bad, it hurt. They had reached the bathroom door. When Draco stopped walking he immediately had to cross his legs. He moved a hand down to hold himself, trying to somehow make it look casual. He squirmed and stared at the door longingly. Relief was so close!

“I... I forgot something in class!”, he lied, “go ahead! I'll just...”

Theo's eyes followed his gaze knowingly. Happily, he said: “I'll go back with you.”

Draco gasped and doubled over as he felt another sharp stab from his tortured bladder. Couldn't that guy take a hint?

“No! Just go already!”, he whined. He didn't care anymore that he was openly holding himself with both hands right in front of the other boy.

Theo eyed him curiously a moment longer, then he just grinned and waved at him. “See you in class then!”, he called, turned, and ran away.

As soon as Theo was out of sight, Draco made a dash for the bathroom, running straight for the first stall. The sight of the toilet made his bladder spasm in anticipation. He felt some getting out. Panicky, he pulled at his belt. “No! No! Wait! Not yet! Not yet!”, he wailed in despair as he felt the pee soaking through his briefs and running down his legs. It felt so good now that he had started to let go, he just couldn't stop the flow. He could feel his hands get wet, finally he managed to open his belt and unbutton his pants. All the time pissing forcefully, he just yanked them all down in one go. He aimed his member at the bowl to finish in the toilet and moaned in relief. He peed for over a minute before his stream at last started to trickle down and finally stopped. The bursting pain in his lower abdomen had been replaced by a dull emptiness, Draco felt so relieved, he was a little dizzy.

He reached for his pants and pulled them up to examine the damage. The front and inside of the legs were completely soaked and there was a puddle around his feet. “Aww, dragon dung!”, Draco muttered. He got out his wand to point it at his pants. “Tergeo!”, he whispered a cleaning spell. A sudden, tingling sensation rushed down his legs. Draco looked down at his now dry again pants with a relieved smile. He took care of the puddle on the floor in the same way. That had been a close call! And he hadn't even made it all the way. He didn't dare to think of how close he had come to an accident right in front of his whole class.


	2. Tuesday, September 7th

The next day they had a double period of potions in the afternoon. Like before, Draco was paired with Theo. He warily eyed the silent boy, but Theo seemed to already have forgotten about Draco's shameful display the previous day.

Draco had made sure he went to the loo after Care for Magical Creatures, but he hadn't thought of going again after lunch. Soon after potions class had started, he felt a small pressure in his lower stomach and he immediately regretted his carelessness. Though it wasn't that urgent and he was confident he could easily manage till the end of the lesson.

Before they were allowed to get out their cauldrons and start working, Professor Snape had them painstakingly go over every detail of the recipe for the potion they had learned about yesterday. As he put it, he couldn't trust his class not to blow themselves up even with such a simple brew. Snape never grew tired of reminding them how he was cursed with the most incapable and unthinking students – a remark clearly aimed at the Gryffindors.

Usually those rehearsals were an easy opportunity to earn house points, but today Draco actually was happy his name wasn't called. He sheepishly asked Theo if he could quickly copy his notes. He really hadn't paid much attention yesterday.

Once they had gone over what they were going to do today, Snape told them to get started. Kids ran to rinse their cauldrons and get the reagents. Theo got up as well and reached for their cauldron. He asked: “I'll set up the cauldron, you get the ingredients, OK?”

Draco nodded. The sound of running water painfully reminded him of his need to pee and made him unpleasantly aware of how full his bladder felt. He pressed his legs together tightly and cursed silently. He knew getting up would make the urge worse. As Crabbe went past, Draco quickly grabbed him at his sleeve. “Hey, fetch us our ingredients as well!”, he told him. Crabbe nodded.

A moment later, he returned and dropped Draco's stuff on their table.

“Dandelion root, not daisy, you oaf!”, Draco hissed.

Crabbe gave him an annoyed stare but he obediently turned around to replace the dried flowers with the right ones. Draco looked after him irritatedly. Yeah, no need to thank him just because he had just saved those idiots' brew as well! He sighed. Ingrates! He made sure Crabbe had gotten the rest of the ingredients right before he weighted the rat spleen and started chopping it.

Theo returned and, unaware of Draco's growing predicament, dropped the filled cauldron on their table, almost making the water inside spill over. The sight gave Draco a painful twinge in his lower abdomen. He groaned and had to grab himself for a second.

“Everything alright?”, Theo asked puzzled.

“Yes!”, Draco hissed, forced himself into an upright position again and continued to cut the rat spleen.

Theo looked at him musingly, but after a moment he turned to their work and started weighting up the other ingredients.

As soon as the water was boiling, they put in the rat spleen, and Theo continued to slowly add the next ingredients while Draco grabbed the dandelion roots to cut them into tiny dice as well. While he was working, he involuntarily started to scissor his legs. His bladder was still aching from holding it so long the previous day, and it made him have to go worse. For a second he grabbed himself, but then he noticed Theo looking over to him and he pretended he was just adjusting things down there into a more comfortable position.

“Could you stop stirring that much!”, he demanded irritatedly.

“It says here to keep it in constant motion-”

“Yeah, but don't slush it around so much, OK!”, Draco moaned, “you're ruining the brew!”

By the look Theo gave him, he saw right through him and knew fully well what really was the matter. Draco blushed. But Theo didn't say anything else and slowed down his stirring.

Draco finished cutting the dandelion root and Theo took the chopping board from him. Draco watched him drop the diced roots into the cauldron. He slightly bend over, trying to ease the pressure a little bit. With a silently groan he looked at the clock. Forty minutes still!

For a second he considered raising his hand as asking Professor Snape to be excused, but he couldn't bear the embarrassment, not after what had happened yesterday. Snape didn't allow his students to use the loo anyways. He never did, and Draco doubted he would make an exception, him being his favorite or not.

Ten more minutes passed and Draco had trouble sitting still anymore. He silently groaned and fidgeted. Draco was so preoccupied with his pressing need, he didn't even notice that Theo had taken over most of both their work. He didn't care for their potion or anything else anymore, his only thought was for the lesson to end. Now! He needed the lesson to end RIGHT NOW! But Theo didn't complain about the extra work. Draco's predicament was pretty obvious by now, at least for anyone who cared to look, and Theo actually felt a bit sorry for him.

At an especially bad spasm, Draco bend over in his seat and pressed both hands to his groin. The Weasel and Potter snickered and waved at him. Draco was totally embarrassed, but between openly holding himself and having an accident in class, he chose the former. Right now he was beyond the point of caring about keeping up appearances. He just couldn't have an accident in class! Not after the incident yesterday.

Meanwhile, the first students had finished with their brews. Theo was just filling two flasks with theirs. “Want me to bring yours to the front as well?”, Theo had to repeat his question for Draco to even realize he was speaking to him. Draco nodded thankfully.

When he returned, Theo did all the cleaning up as well. For Draco, hearing the other kids rinse out their cauldrons was pure agony. His bladder was pulsing furiously and he could feel a little squirt dampen his briefs before he could stop the flow. He sank down on his table and kept on choking his member like his life depended on it.

By the time Professor Snape dismissed class, he was close to tears. Draco just remained sitting on his place while the others left. Again, Theo waited for him. Draco didn't even notice the other boy packed up his stuff for him. When they were alone, Theo stood up and went over to Draco's side of the table.

“Just go on ahead!”, Draco muttered weakly when he noticed the other boy standing besides him.

Theo didn't seem to hear. He whispered: “Think you can get up?”

Draco blinked away the tears. He shook his head, he knew he couldn't.

“Come on, I'll help you!”, Theo said, offering a hand.

The second Draco opened his legs to stand up, he felt his bladder contract. A huge spurt escaped into his pants, he groaned and desperately pressed his legs together again. His second attempt was more successful and although he felt another squirt escape, he managed to get up. He immediately crossed his legs again. A few drops were running down the inside of his left leg and when he looked down at himself, to his horror he could see a huge wet spot in his groin where he was holding himself through his robe.

He looked back up at Theo and he could see the other boy had noticed as well. He felt his face go red hot with embarrassment. Theo did not comment, though, he just tried to slowly ease Draco towards the exit. Draco hobbled along, his hand desperately choking his member, feeling a little more escape with each tiny step he took. Halfway to the door, his bladder just gave way. He could feel the hot piss gushing forth between his fingers and rushing down his legs. He desperately tried to stem the flood, but at the same time finally letting go felt so good, he just couldn't stop himself. He started crying while he continued to piss his pants right in front of the other boy. Theo just stared at him.

It felt like he would never stop peeing, it must have been over a minute before his stream started to slow down. When there finally was no pee left inside him, he was standing in a huge puddle.

“Are you all done?”, Theo asked softly.

Draco didn't answer, he was crying hysterically.

Theo looked at him uncertain what to do, then he hesitantly got out his wand and cast a cleaning charm on him.

As Draco felt the tingling sensation of the spell, he looked up at Theo in confusion. He didn't get why the other boy wasn't laughing at him. He sniffled: “You gonna tell on me?”

“Of cause not!”, Theo replied earnestly and gave him a hug, “come on, let's wash off those tears!”

Draco allowed himself to gently be guided over to the row of sinks at the wall.


	3. Tuesday, September 14th

After that incident, Theo had started to hang out with Draco and the guys. Draco wasn't exactly sure what had brought on the sudden chance, and he still worried Theo might tell on him or use what had happened to blackmail him. So far, though, Theo had kept his word. Draco wasn't exactly sure why, but he wasn't complaining about it. He didn't mind Theo's company, very much to the contrary in fact, he enjoyed having someone with a brain of his own around to talk to for a change.

They were on their way to potions class, discussing their homework assignment. He and Theo had done it together. Actually done it together. As in Theo really had written half of it – and it hadn't been a pile of dragon dung Draco had to scrap and rewrite himself either – when he was partnered with Crabbe or Goyle, the two usually just ended up doing nothing and copying Draco's homework later. He had to admit, he liked hanging out with Theo more and more.

“Let's go to the loo”, Theo interrupted his thoughts.

Draco stopped and turned back around to face him. Theo stood in front of the bathroom door next to their potions classroom. There were other classmates nearby, Draco eyed them uncomfortably.

“I'll wait for you”, he quickly said.

“You wanna have another accident in class? Go!”, Theo silently urged him.

Draco felt himself blush in embarrassment. So much for the silent agreement he thought they had had to never speak of that incident again. Though Theo wasn't actually mocking him and he knew his new friend had a point. He made up his mind and quickly stepped into the bathroom, Theo followed him inside. Draco walked to the middle of the room, then he stopped dumbfounded and eyed Theo uncomfortably.

Theo returned the confused look and pushed him in the direction of the urinal. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I-I can't go in front of others”, Draco muttered, feeling himself blush even more.

“Whatever”, Theo shrugged and just went over to the urinal himself to take care of his own business.

Hesitantly, Draco turned around and entered one of the cubicles, making sure to lock the door behind himself. He turned towards the toilet and slowly started to undo his belt and pants. Outside he could hear Theo finish and get over to the sink to wash his hands. He tried to concentrate on his own affairs, but he just couldn't get himself to relax. He knew the other boy was still in the room with him. The tap turned off, but he didn't hear the door. Was Theo waiting for him? Come on, man, just get out already! He tried not to think about Theo and just relax. Then suddenly Theo banged on the stall door and Draco clenched up completely again.

“Hurry up! You taking a crap or what?”, Theo laughed.

“I can't go with you out there, OK?”, Draco replied, his tone somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance, “just wait for me in class!”

“You can't be serious!”, Theo laughed, but after a moment, Draco heard him open the door and leave.

He sighed and turned back to the toilet. He felt so tense, it took him a minute to relax enough to push out even just a few drops. He quickly flushed, got out, washed his hands and ran after Theo. He made it to class just in time before the school bell rang. When he sat down besides Theo, Theo bowed over and whispered: “You really can't go with someone around?”

“Shut up!”

Theo just grinned.

They were brewing shrinking solution today. According to Professor Snape, only a complete imbecile could mess up this potion. That Granger Mudblood had teamed up with Longbottom, so there was at least some remote chance he wouldn't blow up his. Draco eyed Crabbe and Goyle. “Slice, not chop the caterpillar!”, he hissed at them. Or those two oafs, of cause.

Weasley came back on his way to get some ingredients. As he passed Draco, he asked loud enough for the nearby students though not Professor Snape to hear: “Gonna show us your potty dance again today, Malfoy?” A few nearby kids snickered. Draco turned around to angrily look after the Weasel. He and Potter laughed at him.

“Just ignore those assholes”, Theo whispered.

But Draco had had enough. The two had been laughing behind his back all week. He waited till Professor Snape wasn't looking, then he quickly turned around again, holding up a hand full of uncut caterpillars. “Hey, Weasel!”, he silently called, and threw them into Potter and Weasley's cauldron before Weasley could react. The potion immediately started bubbling furiously.

Weasley jumped up. He cried: “What the!? Malfoy, you-”

But he hadn't noticed Professor Snape looking back up. “Mr. Weasley! Is there a problem?”

“Sir! Malfoy just-”

At that moment, their potion exploded in a huge cloud of green smoke.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, to the front!”, Snape said annoyedly.

“But he-”

“Now, Mr. Weasley!”

Draco gleefully watched as the two went to the front and as Snape lectured them about their ineptness. They didn't get in a single word. Snape gave them both detention for messing up their brew. As the two returned to their seats, they stared at him angrily. Draco couldn't help but smugly smiled back at them.


	4. Wednesday, September 15th

Draco was walking down an upper floor hallway and tried to decide if he should head for the great hall for lunch or take a quick detour to the loo. He kinda had to go, but it wasn't urgent yet. This part of the castle was pretty much deserted at this time of day, though, and he knew how crowded the bathrooms across the great hall would be after lunch. The toilet, he decided.

Just then he noticed a black-haired boy who ran straight up to him. The boy stopped a few feet away, timidly looked up at Draco, swallowed and then made two more steps.

“Excuse me, Sir! Please! I-I... could you please help me?”, the kid stuttered, “would you happen to know where the loo is?”

Draco hadn't seen the boy's face before. He was quite short, definitely a first-year, and his robe identified him as a Gryffindor. Probably some Mudblood. But it really stroked Draco's ego how polite and almost fearful the kid had addressed him, even though Draco wasn't that much his senior. Besides, he was still in an especially good mood for getting Potter and Weasley into detention the previous day.

By the way the boy fidgeted it was obvious he was in urgent need of an answer to his question. Draco sighed. He remembered his first month at Hogwarts and how often he had gotten lost. There was nobody around to witness his good deed and he had been on the way to the toilets anyways, so where was the harm?

“Come on, I'll show you”, he said and smiled at the kid.

“Thank you, Sir!”, murmured the boy. Draco was surprised and a bit embarrassed the kid took his hand as Draco led him down the hallway, the other hand securely pressed to his groin.

“Is it far?”, the boy asked, squirming.

“No, we're almost there-”, Draco hardly had time to point out the door ahead before the kid let go of his hand and made a mad dash for the loo. He disappeared inside.

Draco grinned. Since he preferred to have privacy when using the toilet himself, he decided to wait outside until the boy had finished with his business. He leaned on the wall and opened his bag, pretending to go through his book, so nobody would get the impression he was waiting for the loo, all the while keeping an eye on the door to see when the boy left.

The kid was taking his sweet time, though. Had he missed him leaving? Couldn't be. But no filthy Gryffindor boy emerged from the loo again. Finally Draco decided he had waited long enough and went over himself. Ungrateful Mudblood maggot, could at least have said thanks!

When Draco entered the bathroom, he immediately heard the sobbing. Only one stall was occupied and that was where the sound came from. No one else had entered or left the bathroom, so Draco was pretty sure he knew who had to be inside.

He hesitated a moment, then he got over and gently knocked on the door.

“Everything alright?”, he asked.

He was answered by a shocked gasp and for a second there was silence, then the wailing returned.

“No”, the boy sobbed.

“What's the matter?”

“I couldn't get my belt to unbuckle”, the kid explained between sobs.

“Want me to try?”, Draco asked.

“I... I couldn't... it's too late. I wet my pants”, the boy sniveled, “I don't know what to do now.”

Draco sighed. Softly, he said: “Unlock the door! I can help.”

After a moment of consideration, the boy did as Draco had said. Eyes downcast, his pants still dripping with pee, he was standing in the middle of a big puddle. He had finally gotten the belt undone, Draco noted, though apparently too late. The boy timidly looked up at him, his eyes red from crying, fresh tears still running down his cheeks.

Draco crouched down in front of him, careful his shoes and robe did not touch the puddle on the floor. He gently patted the boy on the arm to reassure him.

“Don't worry!”, he said as he got out his wand, “I know a charm that'll clean you up. I'll cast it on you now, OK?”

The boy sniffled and nodded. Draco pointed his wand at him. “Tergeo!”, he said. A little wave ran down the kid's pants, purging the wetness. The boy stared down at his suddenly dry pants in amazement. The next second he jumped at Draco and hugged him, taking him completely by surprise. All Draco could think of at that moment was that a second ago those pants that were rubbing against his robe had been completely soaked with pee. Yes, he had spelled them clean, but still: Eww! He awkwardly patted the kid on the head and pushed him away.

“Go, wash your face!”, he instructed.

The boy ran over to the sinks. While he cleaned away the tears, Draco took care of the puddle with another cleaning charm.

When the boy was done, he turned around to him again. “Thanks!”, he muttered shyly, “I'm Evan. What's your name?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy”, Draco said.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy! ... Draco?”,Evan shyly smiled at him.

“Draco is OK”, Draco said, then, remembering himself, he scowled, “now get out and enjoy your lunch break!”

Evan grinned, saluted, and started for the door.

“Hey, Evan!”, Draco called after him.

The door handle in hand, Evan turned around again.

“One word about this – about me helping you – to anyone and I'll turn you into a rat and feed you to my owl! Understood?”

Evan's eyes grew wide and he hurriedly nodded.

“Good. Now get out!”

Without another word Evan ran out.

Draco looked after him and grinned, then he turned his eyes back down at where the kid's pants had touched his robe. He shuddered. Disgusting! He would have to get to his room and change into a clean one before lunch. But first, he turned back around and got into the cubicle to finally take a piss himself.


	5. Thursday, September 16th

Thursday afternoon they were out in the castle grounds for Care for Magical Creatures. The subject was taught by this oaf Hagrid, and what was worse they were together with the Gryffindors. Theo didn't like Hagrid. He was stupid and so were his lessons. Most of the time he would make them work up close with dangerous, filthy or stinking creatures – usually they were all three. On top of that it was an open secret that Potter and his friends were Hagrid's favorites. Draco hated it, too.

Today's lesson apparently was how to get maimed by the bunch of dangerous-looking, overgrown half-horse, half-raptor monstrosities Hagrid led towards them. Their talons looked awfully sharp. Everyone crowded backwards and away from the suddenly rather flimsy-looking fence that separated them from the monsters. Theo smirked as he saw even Potter, Weasley and Granger recoiled from the creatures. He and Draco had had the good sense to stay in the back of the group. Everybody nervously watched the creatures. As Hagrid explained, they were called hippogriffs. And they actually were quite dangerous to handle. Though, why Hagrid looked outright euphoric about that fact was beyond Theo.

“Who'll want ter pet one first?”, the giant oaf asked far too happy. The whole class collectively made another step backwards.

But then Potter approached the fence.

“Teacher's pet”, Draco muttered.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

“Think he'll get maimed?”, Theo whispered.

“I hope he does”, Draco grinned.

They watched in morbid fascination as Potter hesitantly approached the animal and bowed before it as Hagrid had instructed him to do. Theo grinned. Potter positively looked like he was about to shit his pants.

The hippogriff just angrily stared back at Potter. “Right, back away now, Harry!”, Hagrid said urgently. But then the impossible happened and the monster actually lowered its head and returned Potter's bow. “Well done! Yeh can touch him! Pat his beak!”, Hagrid said, almost ecstatic. Potter probably would have preferred to run away, but he obediently approached the beast. It actually allowed him to touch its beak.

“Recon he migh' let yeh ride him!”, Hagrid roared. Potter didn't seem to think so, but Hagrid just grabbed him, lifted him onto the hippogriff's back and gave the animal a slap on it's hindquarters. Startled, the creature jumped and unfolded its enormous wings. It soared upwards, flying through the air and made a circle around the paddock – Potter clinging to it's neck for his very life. It was completely irresponsible and dangerous, but Theo couldn't help but laugh at Potter's misfortune. Hagrid laughed, too, though not out of schadenfreude like Theo and Draco.

Sadly, the creature and its cargo safely returned to the ground, and Potter shakily slid down from its back. His face was ashen, but all teacher's pet again, he even faked a smile. Theo wouldn't have managed. If it had been him on that creature, he would have shat himself for real.

“Now, all step forward!”, Hagrid bellowed, “remember, bow and don' blink, hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much! If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. And if he doesn' bow, get away sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt!”

Theo silently groaned and exchanged an anxious look with Draco, but his friend didn't seem worried, he was angry. “Stupid show-off!”, he muttered and marched right at the first hippogriff.

“You're not dangerous at all, are you, you ugly monster?”, he said as he reached for it's beak.

The next second Draco was lying on the ground, screaming, the aggravated creature atop of him, hacking at him. Everybody panicked. Hagrid jumped in front of the hippogriff, trying to get it off of Draco. Theo rushed over to his friend. Draco had a huge gash on his arm and there was lots of blood. So much blood! Theo didn't know what to do. He hardly noticed Granger kneeling down besides him. She pressed a cloth on Draco's wound. “We have to get him to the hospital wing!”, she took control of the situation.

Draco had twisted his ankle in falling and couldn't stand on his own, so Hagrid picked him up and carried him to the castle. Theo ran after them, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him stay with Draco in the hospital wing and send him away. He slowly walked back to the border of the forest where they had had their lesson. The other students had already gone, and there was no sign of the hippogriffs either anymore, very much to Theo's relief. He picked up Draco's and his own stuff, which was still laying on the ground, and made his way back to their dormitories.

Later that evening he returned to the hospital wing to see how Draco was doing. He was greeted by loud shouting even before he had left the stairwell. A very angry Mr. Malfoy was pacing up and down the hospital corridor and arguing with Dumbledore, they were blocking Theo's way. Theo stopped and eyed the agitated men uncomfortably. Madam Pomfrey stood at Dumbledore's side, she looked like she didn't want to be there just as much as Theo. When she saw him, she quickly went over and silently asked: “Come to visit your friend, dear?”

Theo nodded shyly.

“He is all better now, you can go in”, she said.

“Thanks”, Theo muttered and quickly slipped past Dumbledore and Mr. Malfoy, who luckily ignored him.

Draco lay in a bed at the rear end of the hospital wing, he was in his pajamas and a thick bandage covered his right arm. His mom was with him, so Theo waited a few steps away, not wanting to barge in. Draco kept telling his mom that he was fine and that it was just a small cut and a twisted ankle, but Mrs. Malfoy didn't seem to hear him, she kept going on about how he had almost been killed and how irresponsible his teachers were.

Draco looked outright relieved when he saw Theo. “Theo!”, he interrupted his mom's litany and urgently waved Theo closer with his healthy hand. Theo hesitantly got over and greeted Mrs. Malfoy. She smiled at him, then she turned back to Draco. “I'll leave you with your friend. But I'll be right next door with your father if you need anything!” she told him before she left.

“Thank you! I thought she'd never stop”, Draco sighed when she was out of earshot.

Theo grinned and sat down at the foot end of Draco's bed, then he got serious again. “So how are you?”

“I'm fine! Honestly, looks worse than it is. Still hurts a lot, though”, Draco said and proudly showed off his bandaged arm.

“Your dad seemed quite agitated.”

“Yeah. He's gonna get that Hagrid fool sacked.”

“He deserves it”, Theo said, “that was completely irresponsible! Those monsters are dangerous!”

“Mom said they're going to kill the one that attacked me. I hope they do!”, Draco agreed. He paused a moment. “Say, umh, could you ask Madam Pomfrey when I'll be released?”

“I'll ask her when I leave.”

Draco grimaced. “Can you get her now?”

“I think she was speaking to your dad outside”, Theo said. He was a bit scared of Mr. Malfoy when he was angry. More than a bit, actually. Anybody in their right mind would have been.

“Please!”

“What is so urgent about it?”

Draco looked down. “I'm not allowed to leave bed while I'm here...”, he hesitated, “and... and I have to pee.”

“Oh, I'll tell her”, Theo said and got up.

“No!”, Draco stopped him, “just tell her I'm all better and that she should let me get back to the dorms, OK?”

Theo nodded. He knew how embarrassed Draco was about admitting his bodily need even just to him. He got outside. Draco's parents were still arguing with Dumbledore. Theo really didn't want to get into any of that and tried to make eye contact with Madam Pomfrey instead. Luckily, she noticed him standing by the door before anyone else did and came over to him.

“Yes, dear, do you need something?”, she asked.

“Draco wanted to know when he'll be allowed to leave”, Theo said.

“Not before tomorrow, that ankle of his needs time to heal.”

“But he said he feels fine and it doesn't hurt anymore-”

“Your friend needs rest! That's my final word. You can play with him soon enough again.”

Madam Pomfrey was about to turn around, but Theo stopped her. “That's not it! Draco... he... he needs the loo, but he is really embarrassed to ask and so... uh... could you like just... uh...”, he trailed off awkwardly.

Madam Pomfrey smiled understandingly: “Why didn't you say so at once? I'll be right with you.”

Theo hesitantly got back inside where Draco gave him an urgent look. “Did you tell her?”

“She'll be right here”, Theo assured him. In fact, he hadn't even sat back down at Draco's side when Madam Pomfrey entered the room. Draco leaned back sighed, though his relief at her sight was short-lived. “What's that?”, he asked as he saw the strangely-shaped glass bottle in her hand.

“That's a urine bottle. It'll help you relief yourself-”, Madam Pomfrey explained.

“You TOLD her?!”, Draco hissed at Theo in dismay.

“Maybe you could wait outside, dear, while I help your friend-”, Madam Pomfrey said to Theo.

Theo got up, but he didn't move, instead he awkwardly eyed the two. He didn't want to abandon his friend, though he also didn't want to embarrass him even more by his presence.

“Just let me use the loo! My foot feels perfectly fine”, Draco pleaded.

“Mr. Malfoy, your ankle most certainly is not fine! You'll strain it again!”, she insisted, “Just let me help you.”

She tugged at Draco's blanket, but he held onto it like his life depended on it.

“Actually, I don't have to go anymore!”, he said.

“Don't be unreasonable, dear! You can't just suddenly not have to go anymore. Just let me help you!”

“I can't use THAT!”

“I'll show you how to use it.”

“But you're a woman!”

Finally, even Madam Pomfrey seemed to catch on to what his problem was. Softly, she asked: “Do you want me to get your mother to help you instead?”

Draco looked mortified. He pleaded: “Just let me use the loo instead, please!”

“Your ankle-”, Madam Pomfrey started.

“-is perfectly fine!”, Draco interrupted her.

“I could help Draco walk over. He can lean on me”, Theo suggested silently.

Madam Pomfrey grudgingly gave in, though she warned Draco that it was his own fault if he strained himself again. Draco impatiently waited for her to leave. She was hardly out of the door when he already pushed his blanket away and swung his legs out of the bed. He slightly bent over and moaned, holding his abdomen with his healthy hand.

Theo got down besides him to offer his help. He whispered: “You sure you're OK?”

“Of cause I am!”, Draco hissed, quickly withdrawing the hand.

He put his arm around Theo's shoulders and with his help he managed to stand up, though when he tried to put some weight on his injured foot, he doubled over with a pained groan. Hadn't Theo held him, he would have fallen. Theo helped him back up, Draco was crossing his legs and as Theo looked down, he could see a small, wet spot on Draco's crotch that hadn't been there a second ago. He quickly looked away again and pretended he hadn't noticed.

“Perfectly fine, huh?”, he asked sarcastically.

“Just help me, OK?”, Draco replied through clenched teeth.

He leaned heavily on Theo as they slowly made their way over to the loo. Theo headed for the row of urinals, but Draco stopped him. “No”, he said, his eyes pointing at the toilet stalls instead, “can't in front of...”

Theo sighed and helped him hobble over to the cubicles. They both squeezed inside.

“You can do it from here?”, Theo asked.

Draco tried to stand on his own, but the second he put any weight on the injured foot, his face scrunched up in pain and he immediately leaned back on Theo. He fidgeted, tried and failed again, fidgeted some more.

“You have to help me”, he finally admitted. He looked very embarrassed.

Seeing Draco so desperate actually made Theo a bit hard. He kind of wished Draco would loose it and piss himself again right there. He pushed the strange thought away and concentrated on helping his friend. He didn't want to embarrass Draco, what was wrong with him? He carefully guided Draco to stand in front of him, so they were facing each other. Draco held onto his shoulders with his uninjured left hand so Theo had his hands free to pull down Draco's pajama bottoms for him. Draco's face was really close to his, too. Theo forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

“Will you stand still for a second!”, he complained.

Draco did his best to stop squirming. Theo finally got a hold of his pants and managed to pull them off. Then he grabbed Draco again and slowly lowered him down onto the bowl. Draco whimpered and desperately pressed his legs together as his bare behind touched the cold porcelain. He gave Theo a pained look.

“I'll wait outside”, Theo said quickly. He slipped out of the cubicle without another word and pulled the door shut behind him. Since he was on the outside, he couldn't lock the door and had to hold it in place. He listened. For a while there was only Draco's strained breathing as he tried to relax. Then he heard a trickle. A second later the trickle became a hissing stream and Draco had to stifle a moan. So had Theo. He closed his eyes and listened at the door. Man, Draco was peeing a lot, how long had he been holding it? Just hearing Draco relieve himself gave him even more of a boner. He wished he could watch him piss, but he didn't want to make this even more awkward for Draco nor himself, so he just silently waited for Draco to finish.

When Draco was done, he called Theo back in and they went through the same procedure in reverse. First Theo lifted Draco up from the toilet, then he pulled up his pants for him while Draco leaned on him. Draco motioned him to help him walk back, but Theo stopped him. “Wait!”, he said and quickly got out his wand. He pointed it at the wet spot on Draco's pants and cast a cleaning charm on it. He smiled at Draco as he put the wand away again. Draco's face went completely red, but he returned a shy smile.

Theo helped his friend wash his hand, and walked him back to his bed. “Thank you”, Draco whispered as he lay back down.

Before Theo left, Draco asked him to bring him his wand. Theo asked what Draco thought he would need it for, but Draco just insisted that he absolutely had to have it. He almost got hysterical about it when Theo said he didn't want to walk all the way again just to fetch him his stupid wand. Theo really didn't get what was so important about it, but in the end he did Draco the favor and got the thing from their dorm where he had put it together with Draco's other school stuff. When he returned, Draco immediately snatched it from his hands. He looked very relieved as he put it under his pillow. Maybe he just felt saver with it. After what Draco had gone through today, Theo kind of could relate.

“Hey, don't stash that there!”, he joked, “didn't you listen in Defense? You'll have a nightmare, grab it in your sleep and accidentally blow off your own head!”

“Sure”, Draco chuckled.

They wished each other a good night and Theo returned to the dorms.


	6. Friday, September 17th

Draco woke up in a wet bed like every morning and his bladder felt awfully full. As he opened his eyes, he saw that it wasn't his bed but he was in a room unfamiliar to him. For a second he panicked, then he remembered. His arm! He was in the hospital wing. He sighed and calmed down a little again. But he was still wet and he had to pee quite badly.

Just then he heard steps approaching and he quickly lay back down and pretended to be sleeping. His full bladder decided to twinge just then and Draco grimaced but he managed to stay still. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Madam Pomfrey walk past.

When she was gone, Draco reached under his pillow. He sighed in relief as his fingers found the wand and closed around it. He pulled it out, took another look in the direction Madam Pomfrey had disappeared to, then he hastily waved the wand over his bed and whispered the incantation of a cleaning spell. He had to try a few times because he wasn't used to hold the wand in his left hand and the spell fizzled.

Finally he managed to do the wand movement right and he felt the tickling sensation of the charm run down his body, cleaning away his mess, but also jerking his bladder, making it spasm fiercely in protest. Draco felt a tiny dribble escape and he desperately pressed his legs together to stop the flow.

When he thought it save to move again, he pushed his blanket away, sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then he tried to get up and put some weight on his injured foot. It still hurt, but the foot carried his weight.

As quickly as his hurt ankle allowed him to, he hobbled over to the loo. Once inside, he looked around to made sure he was alone, then he entered the first cubicle. He pulled close and locked the door with some difficulty, he wasn't used to do things with just his off-hand. Then he opened the toilet lid and pulled at his pajama bottoms. Everything seemed so fiddly with just the one hand. He finally got his member free from his pants and aimed it at the bowl not a moment too early, for he felt his floodgates give way. With a relieved moan he started pissing. It didn't matter how wet his bed was, he always had to go bad when he woke up in the morning. When his bladder finally had emptied, he flushed the toilet and got over to the sink to wash his hand.

On his way back he ran into Madam Pomfrey. She wasn't happy he had gotten up on his own, but seeing how he was standing on it and not screaming in pain, she agreed that his ankle seemed better. She still made him sit down on his bed to check his arm and changed his bandage. The deep gash was gone and only a thin line of new, pink skin showed where it had been, but Madam Pomfrey insisted on putting a new bandage on him. At least she allowed Draco to return to his dorm after breakfast – though he wasn't to strain the arm and he would have to stop by the hospital wing in the evening so Madam Pomfrey could check on his bandage. And he wasn't to return to classes till the next week either. Draco didn't object to that at least.


	7. Friday, September 24th

Today Draco had had his first Quidditch practice since his injury. That stupid nurse had insisted he wore a bandage and not use his arm the whole week. They even had had to reschedule their match against Gryffindor the following weekend because of him, even though he had so been looking forward to finally show Potter his place. Now the Gryffindors were playing against Hufflepuff instead.

When Draco came from the showers, Theo was already dressed and waiting for him in the locker room. Draco hurriedly slipped on his clothes as well and grabbed his Quidditch stuff. He didn't want to make Theo wait too long plus he kind of had to pee and he wanted to get back to their dorms quickly. They had made a habit of walking to the castle together after practice and Draco enjoyed the opportunity to talk to Theo.

While they walked, Draco excitedly recounted the training session, he really had missed Quidditch and flying on his broom and just playing with his friends again. He was really looking forward to winning the Quidditch cup for Slytherin this year, too – Theo and he both were sure they would. So they were talking animatedly and Draco didn't really pay much attention to where they were headed until they had already passed the first trees. Theo had led them down a path towards the forbidden forest instead of a directer way back to the castle. Draco started to wonder where his friend was even going and was about to ask when Theo sat down in a small grove and motioned for Draco to join him.

Draco sat down next to him and leaned on a tree, just then he felt an angry nudge from his bladder. He really had to take a leak soon, but he ignored it for now, after all he could just slip away for a moment to use the loo at their dorms before dinner once they were back at the castle. Theo moved closer to share some chocolate frogs with him, and as they continued to talk Draco soon forgot about his need again.

“Aww, Dippet”, Theo said, disappointed, and showed Draco his collectible card.

“Eww! I got Godric Gryffindor!”, Draco replied in fake horror.

They both laughed. While they ate, Theo inched closer and leaned against Draco's shoulder. Draco didn't really mind. Soon after they were done eating, Draco's bladder twitched again, demanding his immediate attention. He tried to get up, but Theo stopped him.

“Hey, where are you going?”, he asked.

“Nowhere”, Draco muttered and tried to wiggle away, but Theo grabbed his arm and dragged him back down. They playfully wrestled and Draco ended up on his back, Theo pinning him down.

“Where were you going?”, he repeated.

“I gotta take a piss, OK?”, Draco admitted, a bit embarrassed.

Theo laughed.

“Come on, get off me! I really gotta go, I've been holding it all though practice!”, Draco groaned.

Theo eyed him, amused. “Why didn't you just go in the showers if it is that urgent?”

“What?! In front of everyone?”, Draco gasped. The mere thought was mortifying.

Theo grinned: “I did. No one ever notices a thing.”

Draco stared at him, speechless, then he, too, started laughing, shaking his head.

“Draco? You ever kissed before?”, Theo abruptly changed the subject.

“Like a girl?”, Draco asked.

“Yeah! Of... of cause a girl! Who else?!”, Theo hurriedly agreed, blushing a little.

“No”, Draco admitted cautiously.

“Me neither”, Theo said. He hesitated a moment, then he asked: “Wanna practice?”

“Practice?”, Draco laughed. He froze as suddenly Theo bowed down and kissed him on his lips. Draco immediately pushed him away.

“Sorry! I thought you were... I was just...”, Theo stammered, his face red with embarrassment.

“You just surprised me”, Draco muttered, feeling himself blush as well. He uneasily looked away from Theo and for a moment there was awkward silence between them. Then Draco pushed Theo to the side. “I really gotta pee, get off me already!”

He scrambled over behind a nearby tree and undid his pants. Theo grinned as he heard Draco's relieved moan and his forceful stream hit the bark. He secretly peered over, but Draco was hidden behind the tree trunk. He quickly turned his back when he heard him finish.

After Draco was done with his business, he got back over and sat down again, but he kept a small distance away from Theo. They exchanged an awkward look.

“So... you like girls then?”, Theo finally asked.

“Don't you?”, Draco avoided the question by asking one of his own.

Theo eyed him queasily. He confessed: “Not really.”

“You're into guys?”, Draco asked. Theo nodded. Draco fell silent, thinking about that.

“So, do you?”, Theo asked.

“What?”

“Like girls?”

“I'm not sure”, Draco admitted, “everybody assumes you know such stuff about yourself. I don't. I... I mean, you haven't been with a girl before, either, right? So how do you even know you like guys better?”

“I just do.”

“Well, I don't!”, Draco said stubbornly.

They both fell silent for a while. Finally, Draco spoke up again: “So when you kissed me, that wasn't just practice?”

“I'm sorry! I don't know what... why I did... I felt... I wanted-”, Theo stammered.

Draco asked: “Wanna practice some more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2014-08-09 - Minor correction.


	8. Friday, October 1st

Draco really had to pee. He hadn't gone to the loo since before lunch as the bathroom across the great hall had been crowded. Then, after Defense Against the Dark Arts Theo had dragged him off to the library. So he was literally bursting when he finally had managed to get away from everyone. He usually didn't stray into this part of the castle – the hallways were infected with Gryffindors, as their dorms were right around the corner – and he certainly wouldn't have thought of using one of the loos here under normal circumstances. One never knew what nasty Mudblood disease one might catch in there.

But circumstances weren't normal and right now the bathroom sign Draco had spotted seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. With what little dignity he still could muster, he fast-walked over. He didn't care if anyone saw him enter. Once inside, he suddenly found himself face to face with Potter and Weasley, the later had just finished at the urinal while the other was washing his hands. Draco stopped dead in his tracks. The two were equally surprised at his sudden entry, but they got over it first. They both reached for their wands.

“Who have we here?”, Potter asked, an evil grin sneaking on his face, “running around with a bandage for a full week and whining to your dad to get Hagrid into trouble! And we haven't yet thanked you for that detention with Snape either...”

“Yeah, he made us scrape flobberworm mucus off the desks for three hours”, Weasley added.

Draco tried to get at his own wand, but Potter pointed his directly at Draco's nose and warned: “Do try!”

Draco slowly moved the hand away from his pocket again.

“Your goons not with you?”, Weasley asked, though it was more of an observation. He grinned evilly.

“What are you doing here?”, Potter demanded.

“Loo. I... I was just...”, Draco trailed off, his eyes wandering over to the row of toilets.

“This is Gryffindor territory”, the Weasel mused.

Draco's bladder spasmed and he flinched. “Just let me use the toilet and I'll be gone right away!”

“Didn't you listen? You can't use this bathroom!”, Potter said.

“Yeah. You're not allowed in here!”, Weasley grinned.

Draco grimaced. “Come on, Please!”

“No.”

“Are you deaf?”

The two snickered.

Draco groaned as he felt another twinge in his lower abdomen. He knew he couldn't make it to another bathroom in time, but he still turned around. He didn't even get to make a single step.

“Locomotor Mortis!”, Potter screamed behind his back and he felt his legs freeze together.

Potter and Weasley strode around him and positioned themselves between him and the door.

“Where do you think you are going?”, Potter inquired.

The Weasel agreed: “Yeah, you haven't apologized for trespassing yet!”

He raised his wand to torture Draco with a tickling hex. Draco bend over laughing. To his horror, a few squirts of pee escaped him and he desperately grabbed himself. His briefs felt really damp, he only hoped nothing showed on his trousers yet. “Please”, he begged, “I really gotta wee!”

The two just laughed even more at his choice of words. He felt his face go red with embarrassment. Weasley cast another tickling hex and Draco fell to his knees, shaking with laughter. He lost another squirt, much bigger this time. He cried for them to stop, they just sneered at him. His bladder spasmed and suddenly he just couldn't hold it any more and it all flooded out of him. Draco started crying. He sobbed and laughed as he soaked his pants right in front of his two enemies.

 

* * *

 

Ron laughed even harder when he saw that Malfoy really was pissing himself. He gloated: “Malfoy is a baby! What will your friends say when they learn you still wet your pants?”

Harry was laughing, too, until he realized Malfoy had started to cry. He eyed Ron, but his friend didn't even think of lifting the hex.

“Stop it already, he's had enough”, Harry whispered softly.

Ron looked at him, confused, but he lowered his wand.

“I can't wait to tell Fred and George! The whole school will laugh at you, Malfoy!”, he laughed, “you coming, Harry?”

Still snickering, he turned around and walked out.

Harry gave Malfoy another look, the blonde boy was kneeling in front of him in a puddle of his own pee and was sobbing quietly. Malfoy stared back at him, his tear-filled eyes burning in humiliation and anger. Harry actually felt a bit bad about himself, he hadn't intended to go this far. For a second he thought of apologizing, but then he just quickly lifted the leg-lock curse from Malfoy, and without another word turned around and ran after Ron.

He caught up to him at the entrance to the great hall. Ron was headed straight for the Gryffindor table where his brothers sat.

“Ron!”, Harry stopped him, “don't tell them, OK?”

“What? Why?”

“I kind of feel bad for him”, Harry admitted.

“You can't be serious!”, Ron spluttered, “that pile of dragon shit deserved it!”

“Just keep it to yourself, OK?”

“Who deserved what?”, Hermione, who had walked over to them, asked.

“We accidentally ran into Malfoy in the loo, we just wanted to mess with him a bit to get back at him-”, Harry said.

“He totally pissed himself! For real!”, Ron interrupted.

“You made him wet his pants?”, Hermione asked, taken aback.

“We didn't mean to”, Harry said.

“It was great!”, Ron grinned.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, you should be ashamed of yourself!”, Hermione shot him down, “both of you! You're turning into the same kind of bully as Malfoy!”


	9. Friday, October 29th

Draco had been burning for revenge all month, but there had never been an opportunity. Until one afternoon just after Quidditch practice he almost ran into Potter when he turned a corner in the hallway. They both were equally surprised, but this time Draco moved first. He instinctively reached for his wand. There was no one else around, this was his chance! Without thinking, he cast the first offensive spell that came to his mind.

“Serpensortia!”, he cried and a huge snake plopped out of the tip of his wand. With an angry hiss, it immediately started moving towards Potter.

Potter stumbled backwards, fumbling for his wand, failing to cast some spell to protect himself or to dispel the creature. Draco watched with a gleeful smile. Until Potter opened his mouth, that was. Potter hissed an angry command at the snake. Idiot! What had he been thinking! Never set a snake on a parselmouth!

The snake stopped and turned around, now slithering towards Draco even faster. He tried to remember the counter spell to dispel it, but in his panic he couldn't. Now it was he who staggered back and fell flat on his arse, he tried to crawl backwards, away from the angry teeth. The creature didn't attack, it just hovered in front of him, waiting. Potter casually walked over to gloat at him.

 

* * *

 

“Run, little Slytherin”, Harry taunted, “before you piss your pants again!”

He immediately regretted his words as he saw the expression on Malfoy's face, but before he could say another thing, Draco had already turned and ran away, crying with embarrassment and newly rekindled anger.

Harry gave the snake a sheepish look.

“I didn't mean to say that”, he told it.

It just looked back at him without emotion.

Harry didn't know how to dispel the creature nor how long its magic would last on its own.

“Don't do anything bad! And don't harm anyone!”, he instructed it before he, too, turned around and left.


	10. Saturday, October 30th

Draco had been keeping to himself all day. He was still angry at himself for his stupidity, at Potter for embarrassing him yet again and at the world in general for being a terrible place and he just didn't want to see anyone. He had been hiding behind a stack of books in the furthest corner of the library all morning, brooding over his misfortune. Even Theo had finally given up and left him alone.

Draco hadn't eaten lunch, he didn't feel hungry. He skimmed through a book on medical potions without really reading any of it, nervously bumping his leg up and down. He hadn't gotten done more than the introduction for his essay either. Angrily, he pushed the book to the side. He started to scissor his legs, he had to piss bad. He couldn't even concentrate on being angry and miserable anymore. Dragon dung! With a silent curse, he got up.

On his way out of the library he saw Granger. Working hard as always, playing the model student, like she actually believed she could become a real wizard. When he went past her table, he accidentally on purpose toppled over her books.

“Oh, sorry, Mudblood!”, he grinned.

She shot him an angry glance, but then she just silently picked up the books and continued her work. The fact that she ignored him dampened Draco's mood even more. Filthy Mudblood! He was about to turn back to her, but an angry twinge in his lower abdomen reminded him of the more important business he had to attend to right now. He quickly left the library and hurried over to the bathroom across the hallway.

He had just stepped through the door and was about to run into the first stall, as a heavy hand fell on his shoulders. Draco hadn't really paid attention to the two older boys who had been heading for the loo as well. He had just figured he would wait inside his stall until they had finished their business and left again. The hand that had grabbed his shoulder forced him to turn around, it belonged to one of the Weasley twins. Like always, his brother was with him.

“Hello, Malfoy! We wanted to have a quick word with you”, Fred or George – Draco couldn't tell the two apart for his life – began.

“Let go of me!”, Draco demanded, trying to squirm out of the older boy's grip.

They didn't seem to hear him. The other brother said: “About Harry.”

“And a snake”, the first added.

“You see, we don't like people attacking our friends”, the second finished.

When the twins pulled their wands from their pocket, Draco immediately reached for his own, but he didn't even get to touch it before the brothers had already immobilized him with a full body-bind curse. Draco's limbs snapped together and he felt himself fall backwards. He hit the cubicle and slid down its wall, until he came to rest leaning on it, laying on his side. He was stiff as a board, couldn't even speak or call for help, only his eyes were free to move. He fearfully looked up at his two assailants.

The closer one bent down and, with a friendly smile, said: “We'll just leave you with a warning this time.”

“Don't mess with our friends!”, the other added.

With that, they turned around and just left Draco there. Draco wanted to call after them, to cry for help, but his lips wouldn't move and no sound escaped his mouth. He panicky looked around, though there was no one else there. He tried to move his fingers, to reach for his wand, but not a single muscle in his body would obey his will.

And he had to piss so bad!

There was nothing he could do but wait for someone to find him. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. No one came. Draco's stomach felt bloated, his bladder hurt so bad! The cold of the stone floor made him have to go even worse. His bladder spasmed and a small squirt dampened his briefs. He wanted to grab himself so badly, but he couldn't move. Please! Someone come in! He felt a longer squirt escape, and then another one.

His bladder gave another spasm and this time he couldn't stop it anymore. He felt the hot pee flood his pants and pooling around him. His view became hazy as tears filled his eyes and he silently began to cry. He couldn't even make a sound.

 

* * *

 

Theo had felt bad for Draco all day, but only after Draco hadn't shown up for lunch, had he started to worry for real. He decided to go search for him. Draco wasn't in the dorm, nor any of their usual spots. Theo went to the library to check if maybe Draco was still there, but no such luck. Theo even went all the way to the Quidditch pitch and he almost got himself caught by Mr. Filch when he sneaked into the unused part of the dungeons Draco and he once had explored together. No Draco.

At a loss where else to look, Theo returned to the library and went over to the table all the way in the back where his friend liked to hide. A half-finished potions essay in Draco's handwriting lay on the table, but no Draco. He looked around, but he couldn't see Draco anywhere. Where could he have disappeared to?

The only other person there at a Saturday was Granger, working busily on some homework, no doubt. The two of them sat next to each other in Muggle studies – certainly not a seating arrangement either of them would have chosen, but he was the only Slytherin in the course and she had been late for the first lesson, so he kind of had ended up stuck with her. They hadn't exactly grown to like each other, but they were at least on speaking terms. So it was stupid not to ask her. Even if Theo was a tiny bit scared of her.

He went over.

“Hello, Granger, sorry-”, he said.

“What?”, she hissed, angry.

Scaaary.

“Umh, have you seen Draco-?”

“NO.”

Theo eyed her uncomfortably. “It's important. His stuff is still here, he should be-”

“That jerk left some time ago!”

“Did you see where he went?”

“No.”

Now Theo truly started to get worried. “You really didn't see?”

Granger looked up at him and Theo half expected her to blow up at him again. Somehow today everybody seemed to be in an ill temper. But when she saw his face she just sighed: “I don't know. Maybe he went to the bathroom or something.”

“Well, thanks anyways!”, Theo told her.

Theo left the library again and looked down the hallway in both directions. He doubted Draco really was just on the loo, or he would already have been back. Granger had said he had left some time ago, too. But there was no harm in checking at least. So he went over to the boy's room right across the hallway.

When he entered, he immediately saw Draco. He was sprawled awkwardly on the floor, laying in a huge, clear puddle, and he wasn't moving. Theo immediately rushed over to him and knelt down besides his friend. The way Draco's trousers were soaked gave Theo a good idea what kind of liquid the puddle was, but right then he didn't care he got Draco's piss all over his own pants and robe. “Draco!”, he cried, “are you OK?” Draco still didn't move, but tears were running down his cheeks and his eyes were alive and followed Theo. Theo realized what must be wrong with Draco and got out his wand. The second he lifted the curse Draco started sobbing uncontrollably.

Theo was so relieved that nothing worse had happened to Draco, he pulled him over and hugged him dearly. He softly petted Draco's hair and let him cry on his shoulder. Interrupted by sobs, Draco told him what had happened. When he finally had calmed down, Theo cast cleaning spells on them both. Then he gently helped Draco over to the sinks and washed his face.

“All better?”, Theo asked.

Draco nodded, even though he looked like he was about to start crying again any second.

“Wanna go to our room?”

Draco weakly nodded again. He allowed Theo to lead him to their dorm. Once there, Theo sat him down on his bed, then he returned to the library to get Draco's stuff.

That night, he heard Draco cry himself to sleep. Theo felt so terrible for him, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't go over to console him, not with Crabbe and Goyle in the same room. The next day was Hallowe'en – and their first visit to Hogsmeade. Theo knew that Draco had really been looking forward to that. He resolved he wouldn't let Potter or any of those other assholes ruin that day for them. He would use the trip to cheer Draco up and make it special!


	11. Sunday, October 31st

The next day Theo woke up at five in the morning. He was too excited about the Hogsmeade trip to get back to sleep, but it was too early to get up either, so for a while he just listened to the other boys in their sleep. Draco was breathing calmly, he must have fallen asleep at some point after all. Theo hoped his friend would feel better in the morning. On his other side, Goyle snorted and lazily turned around in his bed. There was also the gentle sound of the lake swashing against the window across his bed, Theo was so used to it, he hardly heard it anymore. He sat up and stared out into the dark water, sometimes he thought he could almost see something big move behind the glass. The sight took some getting used to, in his first month at Hogwarts he had actually been a bit scared of what might hide out in the darkness of the lake at night.

Goyle stirred and sat up with a yawn.

“Morning”, Theo said and stifled a yawn of his own.

Goyle grunted – which was his way of wishing Theo a good morning as well – and got up. He scratched his ass, yawned again, and lazily walked over to the door to vanish in the direction of the washroom. Other kids were rising early today as well, Theo could hear faint voices and silent steps as the first few walked about on the corridor outside. Seemed like he wasn't the only one excited about their Hogsmeade excursion after all. Soon Crabbe got up as well.

“Morning”, Theo said again.

Crabbe didn't bother to answer and went over to Draco.

“No, leave him be!”, Theo stopped him. It was still early and after last night he thought Draco might need the sleep.

Crabbe grunted dissatisfied – Theo suspected it was some kind of special idiot dialect only Crabbe and Goyle spoke – but he left Draco in peace.

Theo decided to get up as well and quickly take a shower as long as most of the other boys were still in bed and he would have some privacy. He didn't mind being naked in front of the other kids, after all in the showers they all were. It was just as of lately he had this problem, he sometimes got hard when he wasn't careful where he looked with the other guys. Especially with Draco. It happened to other boys as well, but it was still embarrassing.

Crabbe was the only one in the showers when Theo entered the washroom. He joined him and made sure to look the other way. Crabbe and Goyle were among those who would tease him relentlessly about it if it happened. Besides, Crabbe wasn't exactly a sight he craved. Blaise Zabini, who just happened to walk in at that moment, on the other hand... Theo couldn't help but take a quick peek as Blaise shed his pajamas and stepped under the showers with them. He could feel his member swell and he quickly looked the other way, rinsed off and grabbed a towel to hide his beginning erection.

Crabbe had already toweled off and walked past him out of the washroom, leaving Theo alone in there with Blaise. Theo secretly eyed the cute boy again and for a second Blaise's brown eyes met with his. Theo blushed and immediately turned away. He almost ran from the washroom and didn't stop either before he was back in the safety of their bedroom. Crabbe and Goyle gave him funny looks as he burst in, but he ignored them and, more dignified, walked over to his bed. He put on his school uniform – he made sure he turned his back to them so they wouldn't see his erection and tease him for it – then he waited for the two to leave before he went over to Draco.

“You awake?”, he whispered.

“Mhmm”, Draco said and turned away from him.

“Come on, it's almost time for breakfast!”, Theo said.

“Go away!”, Draco muttered.

Instead, Theo went around Draco's bed so he was facing him again. “Get up, sleepyhead! You're gonna be late for Hogsmeade!”

Draco turned the other way once more. “I'm not going.”

“Hey”, Theo said and softly shook Draco's shoulder.

“Leave me alone!”

Theo sighed. “Come on, you can sleep in another day!”

“Go away! I'm not going!”

But Theo wouldn't have that. He grabbed Draco's blanket and with one swift motion yanked it away. “Get up you lazy sod! You can pity yourself another day! We're already late for breakf-”, Theo stumbled over his own words and just stared down at Draco, speechless, stupidly holding up the blanket. Draco's bed was completely wet and his pajamas were drenched, too. he looked back at Theo in horror and futilely tried to cover the wetness of his crotch with his hands. Then Draco started to cry.

Theo was completely stumped, he didn't know what to do, he just felt completely horrible about himself. The worst part was that he could feel his member go completely stiff, which in his mind made him the most abhorrent person on the planet. That was the reason why Draco hadn't wanted to get up? Oh, dragon dung! And Theo had stepped right into it. He had wanted this to be a good day for Draco and he had already ruined it!

He dropped the stupid blanket, rushed over and knelt down besides Draco. “It's OK! It's OK!”, Theo told him and just hugged him. Draco pressed his face to his chest and sobbed, and Theo whispered again: “It's OK, it's gonna be OK.”

He held Draco until blonde boy stopped sniveling and calmed down a little, and Theo finally got a moment to think. “Right”, he said, “don't worry, I'll fix this! I'll just get my wand and I'll cast a cleaning charm on you and nobody will be the wiser!”

“I can do that myself!”, Draco snapped at him in a sudden flash of anger.

Theo watched sheepishly as Draco grabbed his own wand, waved it over his bed and muttered the incantation. The spell ran down the length of his body and vanished all wetness, leaving bed and pajamas suddenly dry again. Draco snatched his blanket from the floor and took care of the damp spot on it with another charm. Then he faced Theo and asked darkly: “You done gloating?”

“I... I wasn't... I didn't-”, Theo said.

Draco cut him off: “Go ahead! Tell everyone!” Suddenly, he looked like he was about to burst into tears again.

“Of cause I won't!”, Theo told him. He hesitated a moment, then he added: “You coming? We have to hurry or we won't get any breakfast before we have to leave for Hogsmeade.”

Draco sat down on his bedside and looked at the floor. He silently asked: “You still want me to come? Honestly?”

“If you're not going, I'm staying as well!”, Theo told him, determined.

Draco eyed him uncertainly, but apparently Theo passed his examination. “Hogsmeade it is then?”, Draco decided and for the first time that day, a tiny smile crept on his face. “I'll be just a minute!”, he told Theo, got up and ran to the washroom. Theo looked after him and grinned.

Then he eyed Draco's bed again. He touched the mattress where Draco had lain, sadly it felt all dry now, of cause, though some of Draco's warmth still lingered. He bowed down and buried his face in the bedding, inhaling deeply, but he couldn't smell any traces of pee anymore either.

A sound from the door startled Theo and he jumped up just as Goyle walked in. Theo stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight of a nearing car, but Goyle didn't take any special notice of him. He just went over to the nightstand next to his bed, fished his Hogsmeade permission slip from the drawer, and walked back out. Only when Goyle had left, Theo realized that he had been holding his breath the whole time. He slowly exhaled. Merlin's pants! What had he been doing? What the fuck was wrong with him?

Draco returned just wearing a towel around his waist and got his clothes. He made sure not to put them on the bed. Theo sneaked a peak while Draco dressed, and he got a nice sideways view of the cute, little bush of blond hair Draco sprouted down there. He hastily looked away as Draco turned to face him. It was stupid really, Draco already knew Theo had a crush on him. And he was cool with it! He kinda had given Theo mixed signals as to how much he returned those feelings, but Draco hadn't stopped hanging out with him and he still used the shower and changed his clothes in front of him like before – that meant he was cool with it, right? If Draco flounced around him naked all the time, he couldn't expect Theo not to look! Theo was just really embarrassed and confused right now by how much the sight of Draco lying in that wet bed had turned him on.

“You coming for breakfast?”, Draco interrupted his thoughts.

“Y-yeah!”, Theo said and got up without looking his friend into the eyes. He quickly closed his robe so it would hide his erection, then he followed Draco. When they entered the Great Hall, most other students were already seated and eating. Draco and Theo had hardly grabbed a quick snack and some pumpkin juice for breakfast, when Professor McGonagall already got up from the teacher's table and announced that the students who were going to visit Hogsmeade were to assemble in the yard. The two to hurriedly finished their meal and followed their teacher.

A big crowd of students had already assembled outside, and McGonagall inspected each one's permission slip. Draco and Theo showed her theirs. The third years who would be visiting the village for the first time were supposed to walk there as a group, so they had to wait for everyone to get sorted and have their permission checked.

They had been among the last, so Theo wondered what was taking McGonagall so long. He looked over to the Professor and saw that Potter was talking to her, and he seemed more and more agitated. Theo elbowed Draco and pointed the two out to his friend. They stepped closer to eavesdrop.

Potter had no signed permission! Theo immediately started to grin as he heard. At this point of their conversation Potter was literally begging his teacher to let him go, but McGonagall brushed him off. He looked so disappointed when he turned back to the castle!

“Not going to the village, Potter? Too afraid of the Dementors?”, Theo asked with fake concern as the boy passed them.

Draco snickered. Potter just stared back at them emptily, but Theo had reached his goal. He had made Draco laugh and that was all that counted for him today.

 

* * *

 

Draco felt a little better after he had seen Potter's face, and a little bit of Theo's enthusiasm caught on to him. Theo was so excited, he hadn't stopped talking for even a second since they had stepped out of the castle gate. What shops there were in Hogsmeade, what places they had to go, where they should go first, what sweets he was going to buy... Draco sighed. He couldn't believe that Theo still wanted to hang out with a baby like him.

“What, you don't like peppermint toads?”, Theo asked, confusing the sigh for an answer to his question about the sweets they should buy.

“We can get a few, I guess. If we must”, Draco muttered, grimacing. Now that he thought about them, he actually hated the things. They kept on hopping around in your stomach after you had eaten them, and they always made him feel like he was gonna barf.

Theo agreed: “Cool, and we just have to get a whole bunch of every flavor beans!”

Draco grinned. Yeah, those he liked. Well, they were horrible actually, at least some of them. But they were the coolest! Especially if you were with friends and everybody took turns eating one as a dare.

So, not surprising, their first stop once they were in Hogsmeade was Honeydukes and they intended to buy so many sweets they would get sick from eating them all. Honeydukes sold all possible kinds of sweets and candy, and most of the impossible kinds as well. Chocolate wands and cauldrons and frogs, skeletons made from sugar, skeleton made from chocolate, bonbons that exploded, toffees that would make you float, toffees that would make you breathe fire, lollipops that looked like mice, lollipops that tasted like blood and lollipops that would burn a hole into your tongue. A lot of other students and even Professor McGonagall had been drawn to the shop as well. Draco hadn't taken the Professor for the sweets-type, he didn't think dragons liked sweets.

Professor McGonagall bought a box of chocolate cauldrons and a mice pop for the way. Draco had had a chocolate cauldron once, at a party his parents had given for the minister, they were filled with firewiskey and they tasted horrible. At least Draco thought so, his father and the minister had laughed at his comment.

He and Theo browsed the shop for some less dangerous chocolates, and argued what else they should get. Theo immediately snatched up a big pack of peppermint toads. “For both of us”, he said. Draco grimaced and chose some ice mice for himself and a sugar quill for each of them.

“Want some salt water taffies, too?”, Theo asked.

“Sure”, Draco agreed. They were really nice and sweet, and quite popular. Draco liked them, too, though he wasn't too fond of how thirsty the taffies always made him – hence the name. Theo filled two big bags and handed Draco one of them.

When they left Honeydukes, they both had their pockets filled with sweets and each had a big cone of ice cream in their hands – and a whole lot less of their pocket money. It was completely sensible, though. After all, it would be weeks before they could buy more. The previous years Draco's mom had send him an owl with sweets almost every day, but it had become embarrassing, he was too old to receive sweets from mommy like that! So he had told her to stop. He somewhat regretted that decision, though. Not even because of the sweets, it just had been nice to see his mom thought of him every day and that she missed him.

While they ate their ice cream and walked down the street to look at the shop windows, Draco's bladder gave him a gentle nudge, reminding him that it was starting to get full. In their hurry to assemble for Hogsmeade, he didn't have the time to visit the loo after breakfast. Draco kind of regretted getting such a big ice cream now. It wasn't really urgent, though, and they just had arrived and still so much to explore. He decided to ignore his need for now and soon forgot about it completely again.

He and Theo restocked on potion ingredients for class at the local apothecary. Then they longingly inspected the merchandise at the cauldron shop next door. They both wished they could get one of those self-stirring cauldrons that were one sale, but of cause Professor Snape didn't allow them in his lessons.

A big crowd of students had gathered outside Spintwitches, and the two went over to see what that commotion was about. They had to push through a bunch of other boys to even get a glimpse at the window.

“They have a Firebolt!”, Theo muttered, awed.

Draco just nodded and stared at the magnificent broom. He had first seen a Firebolt in Diagon Alley in London. The handle was finest ebony wood, this one had twigs of hazel, but they also came in birch for better acceleration but less precision in turning, and the metal parts were highest-quality goblin-made ironworks. Each Firebolt was custom build and had it's own registration number.

“It's the best broom in the world!”, an excited Hufflepuff girl told a classmate.

“The Irish team uses them!”, her friend said importantly.

“I so wished my dad would get me one for Christmas!”, Draco whispered.

“You're getting one?”, Theo spluttered.

Draco sighed. “No way. Not after he got Nimbus 2001s for the entire team last year.”

“Thanks for that, by the way”, Theo grinned and patted Draco on the shoulder, “ah, come on, you've still got one of the best brooms in the world!”

They looked at the Firebolt some more, until they were rudely shoved aside by a bunch of older Ravenclaw kids.

“Jerks!”, Draco called them and one flipped him the bird.

Draco was about to get out his wand, but Theo grabbed his arm. “Come on, let's go!”, he said as he dragged Draco away.

Next they went to Zonko's Joke Shop. A few weeks ago some student had dropped a dungbomb in the potions classroom during the lesson before theirs – reports to the fate of the culprit varied, either Professor Snape kept his dead body in his study or he had only been given detention till the end of his life – but the dungbomb had proven effective not only to cut short the previous class, but theirs had been canceled entirely as well. So they definitely were going to stock up on those. They had to get some firecrackers as well. Draco found a soap that dyed your hands black, while Theo spotted one that released a few dozen frogs when it got wet. They couldn't agree which would make the better addition to the girl's bathroom in their dorm, so they compromised and bought both.

Their pockets now filled to the brim with both sweets and joke articles, Theo and Draco went to look at the displays of the remaining shops and explore the village some more. Theo shared some of his salt water taffies with Draco. At Dervish and Banges they looked at the different magical contraptions and Draco got an auto-answer quill as a birthday present for Goyle while Theo bought himself a new set of exploding snap cards.

At the Shrieking Shack they ran into Granger and the Weasel gawking at the decaying haunted house.

“Looking to buy some real estate, Weasley? Bet you'd love to have a bedroom of your own”, Draco grinned.

Theo agreed: “Heard your family is sleeping all in the same room, isn't that so?”

Weasley was about to jump at them, but sadly that meddling Granger stopped him. Disappointed, Draco let go of his wand he had secretly grabbed in his pocket.

“Just ignore those idiots!”, Granger said, “you jerks leave Ron alone!”

“Yeah, run with your tail between your legs!”, Draco laughed, “are you so afraid you hide behind a Mudblood girl?”

Weasley's face went red and this time he would really have leaped at Draco, hadn't Granger seized both his arms. Draco had gotten out his wand, pointing it at them. He laughed.

“Let's go!”, Granger hissed at the Weasel, urgently.

Draco and Theo laughed as she dragged the fuming boy away. “Have you seen his face?”, Draco snorted. Theo grinned: “Yeah, that was fun.”

They decided to turn back towards the village center and Theo shared another round of salt water taffies with Draco while he let them down a side road towards High Street. The huge ice cream from before was making its way through Draco and he started to really feet like he needed the loo soon. Sucking on the taffy, instead he said: “Man, I'm thirsty.”

“Me, too. Wanna get a hot chocolate?”, Theo concurred and pointed at a café a few houses ahead.

Draco eyed the tea shop warily. “Madam Puddifoot's”, it read in pink letters atop the equally pink window and door. The place looked a bit girlish. “I dunno”, he said, “let's go to the Three Broomsticks instead?”

“But that's at the other end of Hogsmeade and I'm thirsty!”, Theo complained.

Theo tugged at Draco's sleeve. Draco sighed and allowed himself to be dragged inside. The café was rather small, but there were a surprising number of customers sitting around the tiny round tables with pink napkins that crammed up the room. The place seemed to be frequented almost exclusively by older teenagers, who were holding hands or kissing over their cups of tea or coffee. Theo didn't seem to notice and quickly weaved through the crowd to claim one of the few empty tables. Draco followed him more slowly and uncomfortably sat down opposite to him.

He had hardly settled down when they were already approached by a stout witch who took their order.

“You getting a hot chocolate as well?”, Theo asked him.

“Y-yeah”, Draco agreed. He looked around awkwardly.

The fat witch brought them two cups of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. Draco reached into his pocket to pay for his, but Theo quickly put down the money for both of them. “You already treated me to that ice cream”, he said.

“Thanks”, Draco muttered. He took another furtive look around. “The place is a bit strange, isn't it? They all look so intimate, think they're all couples?”

Theo took a sip from his chocolate, leaving a line of whipped cream on his upper lip. He followed Draco's eyes and shrugged. “I don't know”, he said slowly, “you think so?”

Draco took a gulp himself, mostly to hide behind his cup, for he had spotted Lucian Bole, a beater from their Quidditch team, who apparently was out with his girlfriend. And Draco would really have preferred the older teen didn't see him here. He observed: “Like, they all seem to be on a date!”

“Oh, I thought we were just here for a hot chocolate?”, Theo asked, leaning closer.

“Of cause we are!”

“Right”, Theo hurriedly agreed.

They looked at each other awkwardly and Draco took another big swig from his chocolate. He almost jumped when Theo's knee touched his leg under the table. “Sorry, you OK?”, Theo said and grabbed Draco's hand.

“Yeah, I just-”, Draco said and immediately retreated the hand when he realized what they were doing. He quickly finished his chocolate. “I just have to pee kinda bad, that's all. Can you hurry up? Let's get back to the castle.” It wasn't even a lie.

“Toilet's are over there”, Theo whispered, pointing with his eyes at the sign in the back of the café.

Draco took a look around, horrified at the number of of people who would see him enter the loo. “I can't!”

“Why not? Just go, I want to stay here a little longer!”, Theo retorted, a little annoyed.

Draco eyed him uncomfortably, he pleaded: “But... they'd all see me go in!”

“Just go!”, Theo hissed, angry, “I won't let your ridiculous pee shyness cut short our date!”

“Date?”, Draco asked far too loud.

“I... Outing! Trip! I didn't... we... I mean... like...”, Theo stuttered.

Draco got up. “I'm going back to Hogwarts”, he said and got out.

Theo ran after him. Draco pretended he wasn't there, turned towards the way back to Hogwarts and started walking without a word. Theo fell in besides him. “I'm sorry!”, he said, “I just wanted you to have a real great day! I wanted to cheer you up! I don't even know why I said that! It's your fault, you started to talk about dates and stuff! Look, I shouldn't have dragged you in there! I didn't mean to make you feel awkward! I'm an idiot and I messed up, OK? Please don't be mad!”

Draco just kept on walking, his eyes on the ground.

“Please?”, Theo begged.

Draco sighed. “I'm not mad”, he said, he really wasn't angry. Not much. He had just been embarrassed and confused and... and... he had to pee! Theo breathed in relief. Draco eyed him and asked: “You really wanted this to be a date?”

“No! Maybe. I don't know. Yes?”, Theo admitted.

For a while, they walked in silence until Theo couldn't stand the quiet any longer. He asked: “So... that thing with the bed happens to you often?”

Draco didn't answer immediately. His first impulse was to lie, but then he decided to be honest with Theo. “Kinda. I can't help it, OK? It just happens.”

“I get that. When I was little, I wet the bed, too”, Theo said, “after my mom died.”

“Yeah, but I'm thirteen!”

“You can't help it!”, Theo reassured him, “so, how'd you manage to keep this secret all this time?”

Draco shrugged. “Mom taught me a cleaning charm.”

Theo thought about that. “Must be awkward to have to keep on sleeping in the same bed. I mean, it's spelled clean, but still...”, he trailed off.

“Yeah.”

All this talk about wet beds made Draco have to go even worse.

“How do you manage at home? I mean, you're not allowed magic”, Theo asked.

Draco's balder jerked and he had to cross his legs for a moment. He groaned: “Please, can we talk about something else but pee?”

“Sorry!”

After the worst pain had passed and he thought it save to open his legs again, Draco resumed walking. Thankfully, Theo kept his mouth shut, but Draco was at his limit, that hot chocolate had done him in. His bladder was throbbing constantly, at another bad spasm he bent over and grabbed himself.

 

* * *

 

Theo eyed his friend worriedly. By now he was kinda good at judging how desperate Draco was, and if he was grabbing himself like that when others could see him, he was bursting. Theo didn't think that Draco could make it back to Hogwarts. A part of him wanted to just let things take their course and watch Draco piss his pants, but Theo still hadn't come to terms with that part and today was Draco's day and Theo didn't want his friend to have another embarrassing experience on his day.

“There is no one around”, he said softly, “if it's that urgent, why don't you pee on a tree? I'll stand watch.”

Draco didn't look like he liked the suggestion at all, but he nodded anyways and hobbled over to a nearby group of trees. Theo climbed a small pile of dirt near the pathway so he had a better view in both directions to make sure no one surprised them – and so he had a better view of Draco himself. He quickly looked over when he heard Draco open his zipper. Draco hardly got out his member in time before he started to release a forceful stream of pee, he moaned in relief. A cloud of steam rose up where the piss hit the snowy ground.

Theo watched in amazement. Draco pissed like a whole lake! It made Theo hard just to watch, and it also made him realize how bad he had to pee himself. Finally, Draco's stream started to die down. With a foolish grin on his face, Theo quickly turned his back again before Draco could notice.

A moment later he could hear Draco zip up his trousers again and walk over. “Let's go!”

“Wait!”, Theo said, “can you keep watch for me? I gotta take a piss, too!”

He didn't wait for Draco's answer and ran over to the same trees. The puddle Draco had left was so huge! Theo whipped out his tool and started peeing, which was a little difficult since he was kind of hard. He grinned and thievishly eyed Draco, but sadly his friend had turned his back and was watching the pathway for real.

After Theo had added his own piss to the now positively enormous lake of pee, he returned to Draco, who still stubbornly hadn't tried to take a peek.

Draco turned to face him and he surprised Theo when he said: “I'm sorry I ruined your date. Want to go back to Hogsmeade?”

“No, it's OK”, Theo said, “it's getting late anyways and I'm getting hungry. I don't want to be late for the Hallowe'en feast!”

When they arrived back at the castle, the Great Hall was already fully decorated. The star-filled ceiling had been covered in storm clouds, a thousand candle-filled pumpkins cast an eery light in the dark hall and right above their heads, life bats swooped across the room.

Most first- and second-years were already at their tables, and so was Potter. Draco and Theo waved at him and asked if he had enjoyed his day. Potter just stared at them gloomily. They helped themselves to some pumpkin juice and pumpkin-shaped cookies. As more and more of the older students returned from Hogsmeade, the Great Hall filled with chatter and laughter. Crabbe and Goyle joined them at the Slytherin table, and they all talked about the fun they had had at Hogsmeade. Crabbe had already eaten all of the candy he had bought and tried to sneak some of theirs. They even let him have some – they had eaten so much themselves already, they were kind of sick of sweets – but they “accidentally” got some ton-tongue toffees and hiccough sweets mixed up in there. The combined effect was hilarious, Crabbe started to hiccup uncontrollably, then he almost swallowed his tongue as it, turned purple, grew so long it touched the table. They all laughed and even Crabbe joined in when he managed to get some air to breath again.

Just then the Hallowe'en feast suddenly appeared on the golden plates before them, like the food always did. Roasted pumpkins and carrot cake and pastries filled with meat and fruit made their mouths water. There was more than they could possibly eat, not that they didn't try. Theo helped himself to some chicken pie and mashed potatoes first and some pudding later. They all got seconds, even though they were already full with Hogsmeade sweets. They had a great time, even Draco finally relaxed and joked and laughed with them like usual and just enjoyed himself. Until that stupid Weasley came by and called Draco a pee-baby to ruin his good mood. Theo reacted quick and threw a well-aimed piece of frog spawn soap right into the asshole's pumpkin juice. It was spectacular. Frogs suddenly exploded into every direction from the glass in his hand, the Weasel squealed like a little girl, jumped backwards and sat down on the floor right on his arse. The laughter of the entire Slytherin table accompanied him on his hurried retreat and soon Draco had forgotten about him and was smiling again, too.

 

* * *

 

The feast ended with a performance by the Hogwarts ghosts who popped out of the walls to glide atop the tables in formation. Nearly Headless Nick got quite some applause for his reenactment of his own bungled beheading.

The evening had been so much fun, Harry had almost forgotten about Hogsmeade. Not even the mean prank Malfoy and his gang had played on Ron could dampen their moods. When they passed them on their way out of the Great Hall, Malfoy made frog sounds at Ron and the others laughed at him, but they ignored the idiots.

Harry, Ron and Hermione went the usual path up to Gryffindor tower, but when they reached the corridor with the portrait of the Fat lady, they found it blocked by a crowd of students.

“What's going on”, Ron asked, “you can't all have forgotten the password again like Neville?”

Neville gave him an angry look. There was nervous chatter in the front, and one girl turned around and whispered to them: “The Fat Lady has been attacked!”

Just then Dumbledore arrived and pushed through them to the front. Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to get closer as well to see what had happened. Hermione gasped. The Fat Lady was gone, her portrait slashed to pieces, scraps of canvas lying on the floor.

Dumbledore looked grim as he turned around and called over the crowd: “Mr. Filch, we have to find her! Search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady!”

They finally located her hiding in a landscape on the fourth floor. She was in shambles, but Professor Dumbledore got out of her enough of what had happened. Her assailant had been no other than Sirius Black, when he had tried to break into the Gryffindor dormitories. His name send a chill through the crowd of students who had followed the headmaster.

Dumbledore immediately led them back to the Great Hall, where the Gryffindors soon were joined by the pupils of the other three houses, who all looked confused. Kids were talking in hushed voices and news of Sirius Black spread like wildfire. Harry got the eery feeling everybody was staring at him.

“For your own safety”, Dumbledore addressed the crowd, “you will all have to spend the night here. The teachers will conduct a thorough search of the castle.”

He paused. Then, like he had almost forgotten, he waved his wand at the long tables and they moved to the back of the hall and stood themselves up against the wall. A second wave of his wand, and hundreds of makeshift beds appeared on the floor. “Oh, yes. You will need those.”

Harry listened with growing despair. Boys and girls were separated and teachers led them to the bathrooms in groups so they could get ready for bed. But Harry couldn't get to bed like this! He eyed Professor McGonagall, who stood guarding the doors to the Entrance Hall. She had her wand in hand and looked tense. Harry awkwardly approached her.

“Professor?”, he asked, “I need to get to the dormitories.”

“You can return there tomorrow, Mr. Potter”, she said.

Harry grimaced. “I have to get something. It's important!”

“You will have to wait till tomorrow.”

“But I have to have it! I... I can't sleep without it.”

McGonagall faced him, almost annoyed. “Mr. Potter, aren't you a little old to still need a cuddly toy for bedtime?”

Harry grew red. “That's not it!”, he protested, “it's really important! Please!”

“Mr. Potter, do you even realize the situation? Whatever it is, it can wait till tomorrow. Now go back into the hall!”

McGonagall looked at him sternly. Harry sullenly bit his lip and turned around. He couldn't tell her that he needed a drynite from his chest of drawers at the dorms. He would never make it through the night dry, not with all the pumpkin juice he had had at dinner and the tea with Professor Lupin before that! He really regretted all that pumpkin juice now. What could he do?

He watched Professor Flitwick return from the lavatories with a group of first-years and decided he just had to try his luck. When the Professor led the next group of Ravenclaw boys out, Harry quickly fell in behind them. Once out on the hallway, he immediately broke away and hid behind a suit of armor until the Professor and his charges had disappeared into the bathroom.

Harry looked around to make sure he was alone on the corridor, then he got up and ran for it. He did not dare to go through the Entrance Hall as he knew professor McGonagall was still watching it, so he had to circle around and take a back route to the Grand Staircase. The empty corridors of the castle seemed even more eery today than they usually did at night. His eyes played tricks on him and once he thought he saw a huge black dog crouching in the shadows from the corner of his eyes, but when he looked at it again, it was gone. Harry started to doubt this was a good idea, but now he was already halfway there and besides, what else was he to do?

He reached the Grand Staircase, quickly ran up the stairs to the seventh and into the hallway that led to the Gryffindor dormitories. But in front of the ruined portrait, he stopped, dumbfounded. The portrait was in scraps and the Fat Lady gone, how was he supposed to get in? He tried the password, it did nothing. He pulled at the heavy frame, but of cause it wouldn't bulge either. Stumped, he stared at it.

Just then he heard steps behind him. “Mr. Potter!”, the angry voice made his blood freeze. Harry slowly turned around to face its owner.

“P-Professor Snape!”, he stammered.

“What are you doing, sneaking around here, Potter? Have you gone completely mad?”

“There's something I really need from the dorm-”, Harry tried to explain, helplessly pointing at the ruined painting.

“Black is right here, in this castle! He is after you, do you get that? Everyone from the Minister of Magic downwards is trying to keep you save! But famous Harry Potter does not care! Famous Harry Potter has to sneak out and search for Black himself! Famous Harry Potter gives no thought to the danger he puts himself and others into!”, Snape railed at him.

“I wasn't-”, Harry said, but Snape slapped him in the face.

“Are you trying to get murdered?”, Snape screamed at him, “right now I'm quite tempted to help Black do it! Did you think a mere boy could hunt down Sirius Black? Do you have any idea what that insane murderer would do to you?”

Snape dropped a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder and forced him to turn away from the portrait. “but Professor! I need to-”, Harry whined.

“Right now you need to get back to the Great Hall! We'll speak of your punishment later”, Snape fumed, force-walking Harry down the stairs.

He left Harry with an equally furious McGonagall. Neither of them even spoke of detention or house points, which strangely enough made Harry feel like he was in even more trouble than usual. Harry tried to explain himself to Professor McGonagall again, but she wouldn't listen. She just made sure he didn't leave her sight anymore.

“You did what?”, Ron asked as the Professor led their group to the bathroom. “You tried to go after Black all alone? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't go after him!”, Harry said, sullen.

“So what were you doing then?”

“Nothing. It was stupid.”

Ron looked him like he wasn't believing him either, worst of all, now he was angry Harry hadn't told him. Ron went over to the sink and took a sponge bath in silence. Harry did the same. He also made sure he went to the toilet before they returned to the Great Hall, though he knew it wouldn't help. As he lay down in between Ron and Hermione – Ron still refused to speak to him – Harry resolved he would just have to stay up the whole night. There was no other way unless he wanted to wake up in a wet bed in front of his friends and his entire school.

 

* * *

 

Theo had similar concerns. As he lay down in the makeshift bed besides Draco, he turned to him and whispered: “What are you gonna do?”

“About what?”, Draco asked, annoyed. He didn't want to sleep on the floor. That madman was after Potter, so why did they all have to stay out here?

“About your bed... thing”, Theo caught himself at the last moment.

“Shut up! You wanna tell everyone?”, Draco hissed in a low voice and looked around fearful. The hall was way too crowded and he just knew Crabbe or Goyle would overhear them.

“Sorry”, Theo muttered.

“I'll just cast the usual spell in the morning”, Draco told him.

“Right”, Theo agreed. He didn't sound convinced. Draco wasn't half as confident as he made out to be either, but he didn't intend to tell Theo that. He would just have to stay up the night.

He had a more pressing problem, though. He hadn't had a chance to relief himself ever since he took that piss on a tree on the way back from Hogsmeade. They had been led to the bathroom in a big group, so naturally he hadn't been able to use the loo then. Dragon shit! Those damn sweets had made him thirsty, did he have four or five pumpkin juice at dinner? And he regretted every single one of them!

Laying on his back only increased the pressure Draco felt in his lower stomach. He shifted around, trying but failing to find a more comfortable position. He turned on his side again, facing Theo. Theo couldn't sleep either, Draco could see the starry ceiling reflect in his eyes.

“Everything alright?”, Theo whispered.

“Yes!”, Draco hissed, squirming.

“What's wrong?”, Theo asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I have to take a piss, OK?”

“But we just came from the bathroom.”

“There was like a dozen kids in there with us!”

“Oh”, Theo said in realization.

Draco sat up a little to look around. Teachers were patrolling between the rows of makeshift beds and telling kids off for talking. Hardly anyone seemed to be able to sleep. He groaned silently.

“Just ask a teacher if you can be excused to use the loo”, Theo suggested, unhelpful.

Like Draco could ask something that embarrassing with the whole school as witness. He lay back down and tried to think of things that would take his mind off his bladder and how full it felt. Quidditch. Their Hogsmeade visit. All the pumpkin juice he had drunken. Dragon dung! Draco grabbed himself under his blanket. For a short while it helped a little. He turned to his side again and pulled his legs to his stomach, clenching his thighs together. Maybe half an hour passed, then he just couldn't lie still any longer.

Draco sat up. The hall had quieted down somewhat, most other students finally seemed to have drifted off to an uneasy sleep. Theo's eyes were closed, too, and he snored silently. There was only one figure patrolling between the rows.

Draco threw off his blanket and got up. His bladder jerked at the sudden movement and he doubled over, stifling a pained moan. He straightened up again and quickly ran towards the exit to the hallway. The heavy doors were closed. He pulled at first, but it wouldn't budge. Draco stifled another moan and tried the second, it, too, was locked.

“Mr. Malfoy, where do you think you are going?”, Professor Snape's voice asked from behind him.

“Professor, I-”, Draco stammered and turned around to face the man.

“Go back to sleep”, Snape told him.

“I just need the loo, Sir”, Draco whispered, blushing.

Professor Snape sighed. He said: “You'll have to wait for Professor Flitwick to return, so he can escort you to the bathroom.”

Draco's bladder spasmed again. he grimaced and crossed his legs. “I can't! Please, Sir, I have to go really bad!”

“Mr. Malfoy, behave your age! Professor Flitwick will only be a few minutes.”

Professor Snape now looked positively annoyed. Draco bit his lip and started to march in place. He felt a small dribble escape and he had to grab himself.

“Please! It's just across the hallway! I'm gonna pee my pants!”, he whined.

Professor Snape stared at his pitiful display, disgusted. He pointed his wand at the door and it clicked open. He hissed: “The toilet, and then you come straight back! If you dawdle or wander off, I'm going to skin you alive myself!”

Draco nodded thankfully and, both hands pressed between his legs, ran past his teacher. He was lucky the bathroom was really right across the hallway. He burst through the door and ran straight for the first cubicle. The mere sight of the bowl made his eyes water. His bladder involuntarily contracted and he felt the hot piss gush into his briefs while he was still clawing at the button of his trousers. “Oh, dragon dung! Dragon dung! Dragon dung!”, he muttered. He finally got the cursed pants unbuttoned and yanked them all down in one go, all the time peeing already. He hurriedly grabbed his member and aimed it at the bowl to finish in the toilet.

Draco peed for what felt like an eternity. It felt so good to finally void his aching bladder, and a dull emptiness replaced the throbbing pain. Draco sighed in relief. When he was finally done, he pulled up his pants to examine the damage. His briefs were soaked and there was a wet spot the size of his palm in the front of his trousers. He had left his wand laying by his bed in the Great Hall, so he could do nothing but hope the wetness would be hidden by the darkness. Draco didn't bother to mop up the puddle of pee he had left on the floor all around the toilet, he just flushed, turned around, washed his hands and quickly ran back to the Great Hall.

An angry-looking Professor Snape expected him at the door. The Professor took one look down to the wet spot on Draco's pants, then his eyes wandered back up to Draco's face. Draco felt himself blush hot red. Thankfully, Professor Snape didn't comment and just locked the door behind him.

Draco fled back to his bed and slid under the blanket to hide. He took a quick look around to make sure his neighbors were asleep, then he reached for his wand and whispered a silent cleaning charm on his pants.

“Didn't make it?”, Theo muttered sleepily. Draco almost jumped. He went completely red again. “It's OK! I won't tell”, Theo murmured and turned around, a moment later he was snoring again.

Draco cursed silently, lay down on his back and looked up at the star-filled ceiling. Morning was still a long time away, it would be a long night. Draco sighed and stifled a yawn.


	12. Monday, November 1st

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short detour from our usual heroes. This chapter is almost entirely about Harry.

Draco awoke because someone was shaking his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, he saw Theo's face smiling down at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”, Theo beamed.

Draco's first thought was that he must have dozed off after all. His second was that he had peed himself. There was talking and laughing all around them. Even worse, he must have slept in, too, and everyone else was already up. Draco looked at his friend, mortified.

“You wet?”, Theo whispered.

Draco just nodded embarrassedly.

Theo held out Draco's wand for him and silently asked: “You can do it yourself or want me to?”

“Of cause I can!”, Draco told him in slight annoyance. He sat up. To his horror, his mattress felt wet everywhere, he had completely drenched it. Luckily it didn't show much with the dark color. Draco snatched his wand from Theo and took a quick look around. Most students already were up and about, but no one seemed to pay them any particular attention at the moment. Draco waved his wand over his blanket and muttered the incantation. The tickling, warm wave that ran down his body told him that the cleaning charm had done its work. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. That had been a close call! How could he have allowed himself to doze off? But it had worked out, nobody had discovered his secret – except for Theo of cause, but he already knew.

Draco got up from his now dry bed and looked over to where all the laughing and screaming came from. “What's all that ruckus about?”, he asked. A big group of kids had assembled, though Draco couldn't see what they were shouting about. Theo looked over, too, his face darkened. Silently, he said: “Apparently, you're not alone. Potter wet his bed. Goyle noticed.”

The two got over and pushed through the crowd. Potter was sitting on the floor, crying. He wore light blue pants, the kind of fabric that turned really dark when it got wet. And Merlin, was there a lot of darkness! It covered the entire crotch and buttocks and it ran down the inside of both his legs. A blind man could have seen from a mile away that Potter had pissed himself. If that weren't enough already, Goyle was holding up Potter's wet bedding like a trophy for everyone to see while Crabbe jeered at Potter's distress.

The Weasel tried to snatch the bedsheets from Goyle, but Goyle was too tall for him. Meanwhile, Granger knelt helplessly besides her sobbing sweetheart. An evil smile sneaked on Draco's face as he took in the scene and he fell in with the laughter. He turned to Theo, expecting him to cheer on Goyle as well, but then he saw the appalled look on his friend's face and he swallowed his glee. “Crabbe, Goyle, let's go!”, he snapped at the two and turned around sharply.

 

* * *

 

Ron had finally managed to snatch the bedsheets from Goyle. “Leave Harry alone already!”, he screamed at the crowd, but it just made them laugh even harder. Ron was about to jump a Ravenclaw boy who was chanting “Potty Potter, the boy who weed!”, but Professor McGonagall grabbed him at his shoulder before he could. McGonagall didn't even have to raise her voice, her stare was enough to silence the crowd. “What is this commotion about?”, she asked. A look down at Harry's wet pants and the drenched bedsheets on the ground told her as much. She faced the crowd again.

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Mr. Corner, Mr. Zabini, Miss Parkinson, Mr. Macmillan, a word in my office, if you please!”, McGonagall picked out the loudest offenders. Somehow everyone suddenly seemed to remember they had urgent business to attend to elsewhere.

The Professor turned back to Harry, who was still crying hysterical. In a more gentle voice she said: “Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley would you take care of Potter?”

The two were already kneeling besides him and trying to calm him down. Hermione just quickly nodded at the Professor and then turned back to Harry.

“Stupid Malfoy got away just in time!”, Ron hissed angrily as McGonagall walked away.

Hermione's eyes darted up for a second to give him an irritated glance. Not now, they seemed to say.

“Now you won't be my friends anymore!”, Harry whined.

“It's OK, Harry!”, Hermione said, “such things just happen!”

“Yeah, it can happen to everyone once in a while!”, Ron agreed.

“But everyone laughs at me now!”, Harry sniffled.

“Those are just jerks!”, Ron said, “if anyone laughs at you again, I'll hex them!”

“It was just an accident! The Dementors, and now Sirius Black, it was too much for you! You were scared, it's a natural thing! Everybody would have been scared! It's nothing to be ashamed of!”, Hermione reasoned.

“I bet Malfoy put something in your drink that made you wet the bed!”, Ron said.

“Come on, let's get you to the bathroom!”, Hermione carefully tried to help Harry up. Ron supported him from the other side. Harry allowed them to raise him up and guide him out of the Great Hall. He knew they were wrong and it wasn't just a one-time thing. He also knew he would be the laughing-stock of the entire school for the rest of his years at Hogwarts. But he was just relieved at least his friends still liked him, he didn't want them to leave him, too. He knew they would if they learned he wet the bed every night.

On the hallway, they ran into Professor Snape. He looked exhausted and seemed to be in an especially foul mood this morning. His disdainful eyes wandered down from Harry's teary face to his wet pants, then back up to his face. “Mr. Potter”, he said, disgust clearly in his voice, “once you've cleaned up, come to my office.”

Harry remembered the last night and his heart dropped even more.

“Potter, did you understand what I just said?”, Snape asked, annoyed.

Harry nodded and muttered a sad “Yes, Sir.”

“What was that about?”, Hermione asked and Ron quickly filled her in that Harry had tried to go hunting for Black all by himself last night. Harry didn't have the energy to correct him.

“You did WHAT? Have you gone completely-”, Hermione started, but after a look at Harry's face, she stopped herself. Harry could see it burning inside her eyes and he knew he would have to brace himself for a stern lecture later when she thought he was better again.

Hermione and Ron led him over to the boy's room. Hermione waited in front of the door, while Ron carefully directed Harry inside. Thankfully, they were alone. Harry was still too distraught to be much use and Ron had to help him with everything. He gently pushed him over into one of the cubicles and unbuttoned his trousers for him. He pulled them down a bit and instructed Harry to sit down on the toilet. The pants were cold and clammy and they clung to Harry's skin. Ron had some trouble to pull them off, but he didn't complain about the stale piss he got all over his hands. Once he had finally managed and put the pants aside, Harry just sat there, staring at the ground emptily, waiting for Ron to tell him what to do next. Just seeing Harry in this state made Ron burn with anger and he silently swore to take revenge on Malfoy.

Ron helped Harry to stand up again, then he pulled down Harry's soaked briefs as well, revealing Harry's little boyhood. Ron looked away to not embarrass his friend even more. The briefs slumped to the ground wetly. “Step out of them!”, Ron silently instructed. Ron helped Harry with his shirts as well, then he led him over to the sinks. He turned on the water and made sure it wasn't too cold and put a washcloth in Harry's hand. “Clean yourself up, OK?”, he said gently. Thankfully, Harry was able to do this part on his own.

While he washed, Ron quickly gathered Harry's clothes and brought them over to Hermione, who still waited outside. He handed them to her and she quickly cast a cleaning charm on them. Ron took the clothes back and he almost looked a tiny bit impressed as he covertly examined the pants but failed to find any remaining wetness.

“I can't believe neither of you still knows a single cleaning spell!”, Hermione told him.

Ron muttered something that sounded a lot like “boys don't need cleaning spells”, though he had the good sense to retreat into the boy's room and close the door into Hermione's face before she could reply. He thought he heard a “boys are idiots!” as an answer anyways. He went over to Harry, who still stood in front of the sink, looking down at his boyhood.

“All cleaned up?”, Ron asked.

Harry nodded, then he said awkwardly: “I have nothing to wear.”

Ron smiled and held out Harry's dried clothes to him.

Harry looked at them, stupefied. “How...?”

“Cleaning charm”, Ron explained, business-like, “real easy. Better than new!”

Harry took his briefs and hesitantly slipped them on. He didn't like the feeling of the fabric against his skin. They looked clean, they even smelled clean, yet he felt like they clang uncomfortably to his skin and they just felt dirty. He really wished he had a change of real, fresh clothes. But he hadn't. So instead he grabbed his trousers and shirts and put them on as well. When he was fully dressed, he eyed Ron uncertainly.

“All better!”, Ron beamed, “let's see if they finally got breakfast ready, I'm starving!”

Harry grimaced, he just wanted to get back to the dormitories, get out of these gross pants and take a long, hot shower.

Then he remembered. “I have to get to Snape's office”, he said as he exited the bathroom. He figured his punishment would only get worse if he made the man wait.

“Want me to go with you?”, Ron and Hermione both asked at the same time.

Harry smiled at them weakly, but he shook his head. “Thanks, really! But I'll be OK.”

Then he turned around and slowly walked down the hallway towards the Grand Staircase. He took the stairs down to the dungeon and followed the corridors towards their potions classroom, Professor Snape's office was right next to it. Most pupils were still in the Great Hall, waiting for breakfast, so he only met two second-year Slytherin boys on his way. They chanted “Potty Potter” as he walked past them, but left him in peace otherwise. He ignored them. Better get used to his new nickname, he thought, depressed. Harry reached Professor Snape's office and hesitated a moment before he knocked on the heavy door.

“Yes!”, Snape's commanding voice answered.

Harry uncomfortably entered. Professor Snape sat at his desk, in front of the endless rows of shelves, all full of jars and glasses filled with slimy, revolting things. He seemed to have added a few to his collection since Harry's last visit. Professor Snape looked up from his papers and gestured Harry to step closer. He didn't offer him to sit, so Harry stood in front of his teacher's desk, eying Snape a little fearful.

“You wanted to see me, Professor”, Harry said.

“Took you long enough, Mr. Potter”, Snape said icily, “I almost thought you had forgotten.”

He looked down on Harry just long enough to remind him that Snape had seen him in his peed pants. Harry blushed. Snape didn't seem to notice.

“Sorry, Sir”, Harry muttered.

“What were you thinking, going after Sirius Black, Mr. Potter?”, Professor Snape asked. His piercing eyes fixated Harry. Harry tried to look back at him, he didn't want to seem craven or like he was trying to hide something. It felt exactly like staring down a hippogriff.

“I... I wasn't, Professor”, he said.

“What were you doing then, sneaking about the castle with a murderer about?”, Snape asked.

“I just...”, Harry trailed off. He looked down.

“You just – what? Certainly, you were aware that students weren't supposed to leave the Great Hall for your own protection, weren't you, Mr. Potter?”, Snape asked mockingly.

Harry bit his lip but he remained silent.

Professor Snape sighed. “Just like your father. Detention all week! Report to my office at seven in the evening starting today. Don't be late again! That will be all, Mr. Potter!”

 

* * *

 

The day hadn't gotten better after that. Everywhere Harry went, other students were sniggering at him and he was now officially known as “Potty Potter” or “the boy who weed”. Even some Gryffindors had called him that – though after Ron had given Thomas a bloody nose for it, no one else dared to call Harry names in the Common Room anymore.

Harry still dreaded dinner, and ate as quickly as he could. He was relieved when he could flee the stares and chatter of the Great Hall. He had to hurry anyways, he really did not want to be late for his detention with Professor Snape. The man hated him and just waited for an excuse to punish him even further. Like he hadn't been punished enough already! Stupid bedwetting! The only good thing today was that somehow Harry had managed to avoid running into Malfoy and his goons all day, they hadn't even come over during dinner. Harry wondered why, Malfoy never wasted an opportunity to gloat. What ever their reasons, it couldn't be a good thing.

Harry quickly made his way down to the dungeons, they lay deserted at this time. Most Slytherins were still at the Great Hall and few other students ever wandered off here, so for once Harry arrived at Professor Snape's office unmolested. He knocked on the heavy wooden door. “Come in!”, Snape's voice answered from within and Harry entered.

“You're late!”, Snape said instead of a greeting.

If anything, Harry was early with a few minutes to spare, but he didn't argue. “Sorry, Professor, it won't happen again.”

“That will be five points from Gryffindor”, Snape said. Harry ground his teeth but he kept silent. “I'm afraid our stock of flobberworms has spoiled. You will sort out the rotten from the good ones, Mr. Potter! I hope you have brought your protective gloves.”

Of cause Harry hadn't, Professor Snape had never told him he would be needing any gloves. Snape gestured towards a workbench in the corner, a huge vat filled to the brim with flobberworms in different stages of decay sat atop it. Flobberworm mucus was dripping down the sides and was already solidifying on the worktop. Harry could smell the stench from across the room. He eyed the pair of dragon hide gloves laying atop the Professor's desk. “I'm sorry, I forgot, Sir”, he said silently, “could I borrow some gloves from you?”

“You forgot yours?”, Snape asked in fake concern. He glanced around the room searchingly, clearly looking the pair of gloves at least twice, “I'm afraid I don't have any I could lend you. You'll just have to do it with your bare hands.”

Harry grimaced, but he got to work without further complaint. From up close the worms stank even more. The good ones weren't that bad, but some of the bad ones were so rotten, they burst open at the slightest touch and spilled out their decomposing guts. He tried to breath as shallow as possible, but the stench was still nauseating. Harry really began to regret he just had had dinner. He had to keep on swallowing to keep from seeing it again and spilling it all over the worktop.

The mucus was almost worse than the stench, no matter how careful Harry was, it got on everything, the vat, the table, Harry's robes, his hands, even the floor and it stuck like glue. After the first few worms, Harry could hardly pull his fingers apart anymore, so thick was the layer of mucus that covered his hands.

“There are four more vats in the storage room, Mr. Potter”, Professor Snape informed him.

Great. Harry began to wonder if Professor Snape put some flobberworms out to rot specifically for this kind of punishment. But he didn't give Snape the satisfaction, he just nodded to signal he had understood and continued with his work without a word of complaint.

“You know, Potter, you always remind me of your father”, Professor Snape mused aloud, “the same recklessness. The same arrogance. No concern for others. The resemblance is really uncanny. Your father had some minor talent at Quidditch, too, and that made him think he was cut above everyone else. Strut around the place with his friends. No regard for rules either, just like you, those were for mere mortals, not a James Potter-”

“SHUT UP!”

Harry had turned around and stared at Snape.

“What did you just say, Mr. Potter?”, Professor Snape asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

“I said shut up! My dad was a good person! You... you're lying!”

“Was he, now? How would you know, Mr. Potter?”, Snape smiled sourly, “stop procrastinating and get back to work! You'll be here all night if need be!”

Harry angrily turned back around and grabbed the next flobberworm. His dad just was! He did not want to admit to Snape that he knew almost nothing about his father. Harry realized that he was mangling the perfectly good flobberworm almost to a mush and he had to discard its remains with the bad ones. He awkwardly tried to wipe off the flobberworm goo from his hands. Snape was lying! He was just trying to hurt him.

Thankfully, Professor Snape apparently lost interest in taunting him and returned to grading papers. Harry really preferred to work in silence.

He finished with the first three batches of flobberworm within less than two hours and he was just about to get the fourth vat. That was when he felt the first, tiny nudge from his bladder, that told him it was getting rather full, but he figured it wasn't urgent and he could wait.

Half an hour later he felt like he needed the loo quite badly and he still had a full tub of flobberworms to go. He really shouldn't have drunken all that pumpkin juice at dinner and he cursed himself for not visiting the bathroom before his detention. Harry bit his lip.

“Professor Snape?”, he asked, “may I be excused? I need the loo.”

Snape didn't even look up from his papers. “No, Mr. Potter. I'm sure it can wait till you're finished with your work.”

Harry groaned silently. He didn't bother to argue, he had known Snape wouldn't let him go even before he had asked. The man never let anyone go during his classes either. For any reason. Once Neville had puked all over his table before Snape had finally allowed him to leave and told Seamus to escort him to the Hospital Wing.

Harry would just have to hurry. Which was easier said than done, for by now his hands were so covered in sticky mucus, everything he touched clung to them and those stupid flobberworms would sooner rip apart then let go of his hands when he wasn't careful. Harry silently cursed as he tried to shake off an especially persistent specimen.

He started to jump from one foot to the other while he was working. When he was finally all done, he couldn't stand still anymore at all, he felt like he was bursting. He quickly brought the last batch of good flobberworms back to the storage room, then he ran back.

“I'm done, Professor!”, he said.

Professor Snape looked up from his desk. Excruciatingly slow, he got up and walked over. “Ah, you made such a mess, Potter”, he observed, examining first the mucus-covered workbench, then eying Harry's robes, which didn't look much better. “Well, go clean up!” Snape threw Harry a rough scrubbing brush.

Harry caught it with both hands, which was a mistake for they immediately stuck together. With some difficulty he tore his hands apart again and quickly ran over to the sink. Turning on the tap and seeing the running water was pure agony. Harry had to cross his legs and he tried to scrape off the mucus from his hands as quick as he could. The damn stuff just wouldn't wash off, no matter how much soap he used and even if he scraped his hands almost bloody, his fingers still stuck together. Harry groaned and jumped in place. The running water made him have to go so bad! He decided that this was as good as he could do and he turned off the tap and put the brush down.

“Please, Professor, may I go now?”, he whined.

“Same time tomorrow, Mr. Potter. And I expect you to be on time from now on!”

“Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!”, Harry groaned and ran out as quickly as his dignity would allow him to.

He made a beeline for the loo by the potions classroom and ran right for the first urinal. He jumped in place while he hurriedly tried to undo his belt and trousers with his sticky fingers. When he finally got them open, he yanked his pants and briefs all down in one go. He aimed himself at the urinal and immediately started peeing. A very relieved sigh escaped him as his piss forcefully splattered against the porcelain.


	13. Thursday, November 4th

First on Thursday mornings was Arithmancy class. None of Draco's friends had chosen Arithmancy among their electives, so neither Theo nor Crabbe or Goyle were with him. He sat with Pansy Parkinson instead, she was OK – for a girl.

Crabbe and Goyle had chosen Divination. They thought it was an easy subject, everybody knew Professor Trelawney was a kook. Of cause, neither of the two dolts had any talent whatsoever to predict the future either, but they had this master plan how to scrape a pass in her course which could best be described as “make shit up”. They were too stupid for Arithmancy anyways. And Theo had opted for Muggle Studies – sometimes he was strange like that. Even stranger, he complained a lot about that insufferable know-it-all Granger sitting next to him when all the time she was in Arithmancy with Draco.

Anyways, today Draco was happy his friends weren't with him, as this way he could quickly slip away after class and take a much needed detour to the loo in private. He hadn't even had that much pumpkin juice at breakfast, but he had been in a hurry and had had no time to go back to their dorms to use the bathroom there before classes. Obviously, he couldn't possibly have used the crowded facilities by the Great Hall.

So Draco was kind of bursting and not really paying much attention to his surroundings when he ran towards the bathroom on the seventh floor. Since that run-in with Potter and Weasley he tried to avoid the toilets near the Gryffindor tower even more, but it was an emergency and this bathroom was the only one close to his Arithmancy classroom, which overruled his otherwise better judgment.

He was about to enter, when he heard Weasel's annoying voice behind his back: “Hey, Malfoy!”

Draco groaned silently, cursing his luck. He turned around slowly, pretending like he had just been passing by and not been headed for the loo. Draco's heart sank as he saw that Weasley was with his older twin brothers. They all held their wands in their hands. He and his damn luck, he should have chanced the loo near the History of Magic classroom! He furtively moved his hand towards his pocket, where his own wand was.

“Three of you Weasleys at once? What do you want? I'm busy!”, Draco spat, sounding way more confident than he felt right now. His bladder gave him a nervous twinge and he anxiously shifted his weight from one leg to the other and pressed his thighs together ever so slightly, hoping he looked casual, not desperate.

They pushed him through the door to the bathroom and, once inside, one of the twins grabbed him and roughly forced him against the wall while the other got a hold of his hand and pulled it away from his pocket.

“No, you don't!”, he said and twisted Draco's arm. Draco winced but he managed to stifle a scream. He felt a small squirt dampen his briefs, but he regained control of his bladder in time.

“What do you want, let go of me!”, he demanded, though a little bit of his fear sneaked into his voice.

“We have warned you before”, the twin on his right hissed.

Their younger brother said: “We know you gave Harry something that made him wet his bed so you could make fun of him in front of everyone!”

“That's ridiculous!”, Draco spat and reared up, but the twins brutally pushed him back so that his head hit the wall. For a second Draco saw flashing lights before his eyes and another squirt escaped him. He panicky pressed his legs together, and his bladder send painful stabs through his lower abdomen as he stemmed the flood yet again.

“Since you didn't listen the last time”, the older boy on Draco's left said.

“We're gonna teach you a real lesson now”, his twin brother finished.

“Come on, how could I even have done that?”, Draco whined, he was actually getting kind of scared now.

“Liar!”, the Weasel cried and hit Draco in the stomach, right where his bladder was. Draco gasped and would have doubled over had the twins not held him up. This time it wasn't just a small spurt that got out. Draco managed to stop the flow one more time, but he could feel the pee drip down his legs and when he looked down there was a huge wet spot on the front of his trousers. The Weasley brothers saw it, too, and they started to laugh at him. Then, suddenly, the Weasel hit him again and this time Draco completely lost it. He started crying as he felt the hot piss soak through his pants and pool around him on the floor.

The Weasley twins shuffled their feet away so the spreading puddle of piss wouldn't touch their shoes. They whispered with each other and laughed even more. Then one of the twins got to the door, took a quick look outside and gestured his brothers to follow him. They grabbed Draco again and pulled him with them, over to the girl's room next door. They quickly got inside, then the first twin got his wand out and pointed it at Draco. The two others let go of him.

“Please-”, Draco sniffled, it was all he managed.

“Petrificus Totalus!”, the Weasley with the wand cut him off.

Draco felt his limbs snap together as the curse hit him, then the floor rushed towards him as he fell forward, right onto his face. He couldn't move a single muscle, and all he could see were the glazed tiles of the floor, but he could hear their laughter. Then there was the door. They were going to just leave him there?

Their footsteps became more distant. They really had just left him, alone, in his wet pants, on the floor, in the middle of the girl's room. New tears blurred Draco's vision as he started to cry again, silently, for he couldn't even sob.

Draco didn't know how long he had lain there. Hours. At some point, he just didn't have any more tears left and his vision had cleared again. More time went by. Draco couldn't do anything but wait for someone to walk in on him or for his assailants to return. The school bell rang. Must be lunch time already! Draco could hear steps and voices out on the corridor, they walked past the bathroom. He wanted to cry out for help, but no sound escaped his mouth. In the end, finally, some steps approached the door, it creaked open, Draco heard a girl shriek and something hit the ground when she must have dropped it, then her hurried steps as she ran away. Please! No! Help! Draco rolled his eyes in a failed attempt to get the door into his view.

No more than a minute or two could have passed since the girl had ran away – though to Draco it felt like an eternity – there was the sound of several pairs of feet fast approaching. The door was pushed open again and someone entered.

As the person got over, the seam of a green robe and a pair of women's leather boots entered Draco's field of vision. He felt a touch at his shoulder and heard the words of a simple counter-curse, then suddenly, his limbs obeyed his will again. He turned around to look up into the stern face of Professor McGonagall.

“Mr. Malfoy!”, she said, surprise and disapproval in her voice, “get up immediately!”

Draco hesitantly stood up, trying to cover the far too big, half-dried spot on his pants with his hands. McGonagall impatiently grabbed him at his collar and almost dragged him out on the corridor. Draco stumbled after her, past the first-year girl who stared at him with huge, stupid eyes. On the hallway, the Professor finally let go of Draco.

“Professor, I-”, he said. He tried to pull away from her, away from the far too many people who had turned around to stare at them, at his wet pants.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Mr. Malfoy, what in Merlin's name were you doing in the girl's room?”

“I was ambushed. You saved me, please, I-”, Draco tried to explain.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”, McGonagall cut him short, frowning. If she had seen the state of Draco's pants, she didn't care. “I ask again”, she said, “what do you think you were doing in the girl's room, boy?”

“It was Ronald Weasley and his two brothers Fred and George. They assaulted me and they dragged me in-”

“Mr. Malfoy!”, McGonagall interrupted him again, “I'm not in the mood for fairy tales.”

“It's the truth”, Draco said angrily.

But it was no use, the old crone didn't believe a word he said. She took a hundred points from Slytherin, gave him several hours of detention and he was to write a four-parchment essay on why peeping at girls on the loo was wrong – and all for something he hadn't actually done! But the absolutely worst part was that Professor McGonagall was going to write a letter to his parents. Draco begged her not to, but she was adamant. His parents were going to kill him!

 

* * *

 

Theo was a bit miffed when Draco didn't show up for History of Magic. He could have told him that he was gonna skive class! Theo would have gladly joined him. Instead, Draco had made him sit there all alone with only Crabbe and Goyle for entertainment while Professor Binns droned on and on in his monotone voice. Crabbe had fallen asleep within five minutes after the period had started. His head was leaning back and he was snoring with his mouth open. For a while Theo amused himself by throwing a bunch of every flavour beans he had carefully selected for their especially vile looking color at him and trying to land them in his mouth. Though, after Crabbe had just swallowed one Theo was sure had been shit-flavoured without even waking, that soon got boring. Theo turned back around and started doodling on some scrap parchment instead.

A stickman-Draco was embracing a stickman-Theo and the two were kissing and stickman-Draco got a boner and so did stickman-Theo and they rubbed against each other... Theo blushed when he realized what he was drawing and quickly covered the image with his hands. He nervously looked around, but no one paid him any attention, everybody seemed comatose. He quickly scratched out the images.

Professor Binns still droned on, something about the formation of the Ministry of Magic or something. Theo made the mistake of actually listening for a moment and Professor Binns' voice must have gotten to him, for the next thing he remembered was the ringing of the school bell for lunch. He groggily got up and followed the others to the Great Hall.

Draco wasn't there either. Now Theo actually got a bit worried. He knew Draco had gone to his Arithmancy lesson in the morning, wasn't that near the Gryffindor tower? He looked around for one of Draco's classmates and saw Pansy Parkinson stand near the entrance with some of her friends. “Hey, Pansy!”, he called over to her, “do you know if Draco was in Arithmancy class today?”

“Sure I know, he sat right next to me!”, she answered. Theo didn't like the way she smiled when she said that. She always barged in and tried to sit with them during meals, too. He didn't like that either. And the way she had been fawning over Draco's injured arm all the time had just been disgusting. He smiled at her.

“Did you see where he went after class?”, he asked.

She furrowed her ugly brows. “I don't know.”

“Your classroom is by the Gryffindor tower, right?”

“Yeah, seventh floor, same corridor as the fat lady!”

“Thanks!”

Theo had a bad feeling. He left for the Entrance Hall and ran up the Grand Staircase. Slightly out of breath, he reached the seventh floor and turned towards the Gryffindor tower. He immediately saw Draco, who was standing on the corridor, his eyes downcast, pants wet and Professor McGonagall was with him and seemed to berate him. Theo ran over just when McGonagall turned around to leave. From up close Theo could clearly see that Draco had been crying. He gently put his hand on Draco's shoulder and – after making sure the Professor really was out of earshot – asked: “Hey, hey, what happened? What did the stupid dragon do to you?”

Draco just hugged him and started crying at his chest. His outburst took Theo a bit by surprise, he soothingly patted Draco's back and carefully pushed him behind some armor stand so they weren't in full view of the whole corridor anymore. There, he leaned Draco against the wall, got out his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell on his friend's pants. He allowed Draco to lean against his shoulder again.

“What happened”, he silently repeated his question.

“It was the Weasel!”, Draco sobbed, “my parents are gonna kill me!”

Interrupted by more crying, Draco haltingly told Theo what had happened and how McGonagall had found him and how she didn't believe him and how now he was the one getting punished. Draco was so beat, Theo decided to bring him to their dorms.

He seated Draco on his bed, sat down besides him and put his arm around his shoulders. Draco leaned his head against him again.

The school bell rang. Potions with the Gryffindors was next.

“Want to skip the rest of classes?”, Theo whispered.

Draco just nodded.

They probably would land themselves in even more trouble – it wasn't the brightest idea to skive Professor Snape's lessons – but right then Theo didn't care. He just wanted to be with Draco, to hold him and to comfort him. He only sneaked out to the kitchens to quickly grab them some leftover lunch they could eat in their dorm. They spend the rest of the afternoon together talking. Once Draco had calmed down, he got a lot less cuddly and moved away from Theo slightly. Theo was a bit sad about that and he felt he might have missed a chance to kiss Draco again. He felt really guilty for having such thoughts after what Draco had just gone through.

When evening approached, Draco was a lot better and they decided to go to the Great Hall for dinner after all. The other students they passed on the corridor were acting kind of strange. Blaise winked at Draco, grinned and gave him a thumbs-up when they passed him. The looks a bunch of Ravenclaw girls from their Herbology class gave them were far less favorable.

Theo and Draco sat down at their usual places at the Slytherin table, opposite Crabbe and Goyle.

“You really sneaked into the girl's room? Man, tell us!”, Goyle said instead of a greeting.

Apparently, news of Draco's misadventure had made the rounds.

“I did not”, Draco said plainly.

Crabbe fell in: “Did you get a good look? That was so cool!”

“I said I did not.”

“Oh, come on, do tell us!”, Crabbe begged.

Goyle bend over and asked silently: “You get off watching them take a piss?”

Theo blushed at that question.

“I don't!”, Draco hissed, “and I do not peep at girls either! It was the stupid Weasleys, they ambushed me!”

“He's just embarrassed because he got hexed by a girl!”, Goyle ventured.

“I bet it was a first-year!”, Crabbe sniggered.

“Shut up!”, Draco and Theo said together.

Crabbe and Goyle just laughed even more.

“Told you, it was! He got cursed by a little girl!”, Crabbe snorted.

“Oh, come on, man, we're just joking! You're a hero! Every boy at the school looks up to you!”, Goyle grinned.

“Yeah, did you at least get a good look before she hexed you?”, Crabbe agreed.

Never before had Theo realized how outright disgusting the two imbeciles could be at times. Judging by the look on Draco's face, he thought the same.

“Drop it already”, Theo said, very silent.

Apparently, there was something in his voice that even those two idiots registered. They shut their stupid mouths and Draco and Theo could enjoy a few moments of peace.

Until that bitch Pansy had to barge in.

“Draco, are the rumors true? McGonagall caught you peeping at some Gryffindor girl?”, she asked.

“No”, Draco said curtly.

She grabbed his face and forced him to look up at her.

“That was so naughty!”, she smiled, then her face suddenly turned serious, “if you ever pull a stunt like that on me or my friends, I'm going to kill you!” She smiled again. “Really, peeping at filthy Mudbloods? You need a real girl...”, she trailed off.

The whore was almost smothering Draco with her bosom.

“He said he didn't! Leave him alone already!”, Theo yelled at her.

Pansy laughed at his outburst. “And who're you? His girlfriend?” Theo blushed and she laughed even more. She got over to Theo, bend down and whispered into his ear: “I think your boyfriend is more into real girls!” With an evil laugh, she pressed a wet kiss on Theo's cheek, then she sat down on Draco's other side. Theo eyed her darkly.

 

* * *

 

Draco and Theo retreated to their bedroom almost immediately after dinner. Draco hadn't liked the atmosphere in the Common Room, he felt like everybody stared at him. By now everybody knew the story how he had been peeping at girls on the loo and got hexed by a first-year. Nobody believed him when he tried to tell them what really had happened. Nobody but Theo.

The two had just started with the essay they had to write for Transfiguration, when Blaise knocked at the door and came in.

“Letter for you, Draco! From Professor Snape”, he said far too happy.

Draco hesitantly took it. Blaise went back to the door, turned around, grinned even more like a fool and gave Draco another thumbs-up, then he ran out.

“Idiot”, Draco muttered under his breath as he carefully opened the letter like he expected it to explode in his hands.

Theo peered over and tried to read. “How bad?”

“It says I'm to report to Professor Snape's office immediately.”

“Best to not let him wait. At least we'll have detention together”, Theo said and got up.

“The letter only mentions me”, Draco said quietly.

“I skipped his class, too. Maybe he'll go easy on me if I turn myself in. Anyways, I'm not letting you go there alone!”

Theo's words made Draco smile, it felt good to have a friend who stood up for him. Even though he feared Professor McGonagall might have had a word with Professor Snape and this wasn't about skipping class at all, he didn't refuse the company.

The two quickly crossed the common room and got out on the corridor. Professor Snape's office wasn't far away from their dormitories, it was just down the hallway across the one that led to the stairs, right next to the potions classroom. They were about to turn the corner when they almost ran into Potter. Draco angrily stared at him and Potter gloomily looked back, though neither said a word as they went past each other. It was all his fault anyway, stupid Potter and his Weasel friend!

Draco and Theo reached the door to Professor Snape's office and stopped. They exchanged a queasy look, then Draco hesitantly raised his hand and knocked.

Professor Snape opened the door himself. “Mr. Malfoy, come in!”, he said. Snape moved aside to usher him in and Draco saw that his teacher wasn't alone. Draco's father was standing next to the fireplace, leaning on his cane with both hands and not looking happy at all. Draco swallowed hard as he stepped inside.

Theo wanted to follow him, but Snape stopped him. The Professor nodded at Draco's father, then he got out onto the corridor and closed the door behind himself, leaving Draco alone with his dad.

“F-father!”, Draco said, fear creeping into his voice.

“Your mother and I got a letter from your teacher. We are shocked. Your mother is completely distraught”, his dad said. He slowly got over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace and sat down, laying the cane across his lap. “Come over here, son!”, he commanded, emotionless.

Draco knew what he was due for, but he also knew that stalling would only make it worse. He slowly moved. “Dad! I... I can explain!”, he croaked, “I didn't do it! The Weasley brothers set me up!”

The look his father gave him made him shut up.

“You greatly humiliated your mother and me”, he said.

Draco had reached his dad and looked at him, scared.

“Drop your pants!”, his dad ordered.

Draco unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. He slowly pulled them down to his knees, then his briefs too. He looked at his father again. His dad grabbed the cane.

“Turn towards the wall, bend over and touch your toes!”, came the next command.

Draco turned around. “I'm sorry, dad!”, he said.

“Bend over and touch your toes!”, his father repeated.

Draco did as he was told. The cane hit his buttocks so hard, it drove the air out of Draco's lungs. Draco gasped. His father whacked him again and again. Draco bit his lips to keep from crying out loud.

“NEVER! EMBARRASS! YOUR! MOTHER! AND! ME! LIKE! THAT! AGAIN!” Each word was accompanied by a hit with the cane. Draco started crying and he screamed out his pain. His dad hit so hard, Draco lost his balance. He fell to his knees, but his father kept on thrashing him. Draco's buttocks were on fire, his dad was so furious, he hit him on the back as well. Draco crouched down to the floor, screaming, but the cane kept on raining down on him. Draco didn't even notice he lost control of his bladder and wet himself.

 

* * *

 

Theo saw Draco's face drop as he caught sight of Mr. Malfoy. He tried to get in with his friend, but the Professor forced him back outside. Snape got out on the corridor as well and, with a silent nod to Mr. Malfoy, closed the door behind himself, leaving Draco alone with his dad.

Theo looked up at Professor Snape. Timidly, he asked: “Professor?”

Snape remained silent.

Then Theo heard the first slap from inside. And another. And another. Theo's heart dropped. He looked at Snape again, but his teacher was facing away from the door and avoiding eye contact. Theo turned around and faced the opposite wall as well. Draco started screaming. Mr. Malfoy beat Draco again and again, he wouldn't stop hitting him. Theo made his hands to fists, he felt tears well up inside him. He was no stranger to the cane, his dad thought it build character. But he had never beaten him like this!

An especially piercing scream ripped through the air and Theo jerked around sharply. Professor Snape had half turned towards the door as well, and for a second their eyes met. Please, Theo thought, help him! Do something! You're an adult, you have to stop him! He's killing him! Theo almost imagined he saw the same kind of horror in his teacher's eyes and for that tiny moment he actually believed Professor Snape would charge in there and stop Mr. Malfoy. Then the Professor lowered his gaze turned away again. Theo felt something break inside him.

Finally, it stopped and Draco's pained screams turned into an exhausted sobbing. The door opened and Mr. Malfoy dragged Draco out on his collar, depositing him on the floor in-between them.

“Never embarrass your mother and me again like that!”, he said, then he turned to Professor Snape, “Thank you, Severus”, he said, nodded, and turned to leave.

“Lucius”, Professor Snape coldly returned the nod.

Theo rushed to Draco's side. Draco was kneeling on the floor, half-naked and crying. His exposed buttocks were hot red and his skin had burst open in several places. The back of his shirt was bloody, too. Theo hardly knew where to touch Draco for fear of hurting him further.

Snape waited till Draco's dad was out of sight.

“Mr. Nott!”, he ordered, “help Mr. Malfoy into my office!”

Theo winched at his sharp voice. He carefully grabbed Draco in the armpits and helped him stand up. When he was sure that Draco could stand on his own, Theo squatted down to help him with his pants, which still hang around his ankles.

“Don't bother, Mr. Malfoy will only have to remove them again”, Snape stopped him.

But as Theo had reached for the pants, he had noticed that they were wet. He quickly got out his wand and at least cast a cleaning spell on them. Draco eyed him embarrassedly, but Theo didn't say a word. Then Theo got up again and with his help Draco waddled into Professor Snape's office.

The Professor hastily cleared his desk and waved them over. Draco shamefully covered his boyhood with his hands as the Professor looked down at him.

“Help him take off his shirt, then lie him down on the table”, Snape told Theo as he got over to some cabinet by the wall and started rummaging through it.

Draco winched in pain as he rose his arms and Theo pulled his shirt over his head as careful as he could. As he accidentally touched Draco's back, Draco inhaled sharply. “Sorry”, Theo muttered. Draco didn't say a thing.

Once he was undressed, Draco lay down on the table on his chest, exposing his tortured back and bottom. Meanwhile, Professor Snape had unearthed a small pot of salve from the cabinet. He returned to them.

“This will burn a little, but it will help”, he explained.

Draco gasped when the Professor applied the salve to his buttocks and Theo took his hand.

“You OK?”, Theo whispered.

Draco tried to smile, but it became a grimace. He pressed Theo's hand real hard but he didn't make another sound while Professor Snape liberally distributed more of the salve on Draco's bottom and backside. When he was done, they carefully stood Draco up and he dressed again.

Professor Snape looked Draco over. “Mr. Malfoy, you missed my class today. Make sure it doesn't happen again!”, he told him.

“Sorry, Sir. It won't!”, Draco replied quietly.

“Mr. Nott, would you accompany Mr. Malfoy back to your dormitories?”

Theo nodded. Draco grimaced painfully as he tried to move, but with tiny steps he made his way over to the door. Theo opened it for him.

“And Mr. Nott?”, Snape called after him when Theo was just about to get after him, “I seem to remember you were absent as well. Detention tomorrow evening at eight. Bring your cauldron!”

“Yes, Sir”, Theo said, then he quickly slipped out and closed the door.

Theo and Draco slowly walked back to the dorms, Draco tried to act casually, but Theo could see he was still in pain.

“I thought he was gonna beat you to death”, he said queasily.

“I thought so, too”, Draco confessed and stifled a sob, “it's all Potter and Weasley's fault! I hate them!”

 

* * *

 

Earlier the same evening Harry was at Professor Snape's office for his detention. Today the Professor had him disembowel horned slugs for tomorrow's first-year potions class. They would need those for their potions to cure boils. There were thirty-one students in that class, which made two full buckets of slugs. Harry sighed and grabbed the next one to slice it open, at least he was getting a hang of it.

He just thought that if he continued at this pace, he might even get out early today, when there was a knock at the door. He looked up from his work and eyed Professor Snape. The Professor rose from his place behind his desk and actually got over to open the door himself.

“Lucius, welcome old friend!”, he greeted his visitor, no other than Lucius Malfoy. Snape shook the man's hand and beckoned him in. Harry had all forgotten about his work, he tensely listened in on the men. What was Malfoy's dad doing at Hogwarts?

“I hope my sudden call didn't inconvenience you too much, Severus”, Mr. Malfoy said. He noticed Harry and stared over at him, barely hidden hatred in his eyes. Harry remembered well how last year the man had lost his temper and tried to kill him after he had tricked him to free Dobby. Only Dobby had saved him back then. The thought send a shiver down his spine.

Snape followed Mr. Malfoy's gaze. “Mr. Potter, that will be all for today, you may go. Come back tomorrow evening!”, he said, “just leave them!”, he added as Harry reached for the slugs to clean up the worktop. Harry put them back down and went over to the sink, the two men watched him in silence as he quickly washed his hands. Then, with another half-scared, half-curious look at the men, Harry slipped out the door. He pretended to close it, but he left it open a creak and tried to listen.

“Close the door behind yourself, Mr. Potter!”, Professor Snape said.

Harry quickly shut the door and fled down the corridor.

He hadn't gotten far when he saw Malfoy Junior and Nott walk down the hallway in the opposite direction. He eyed them warily, but except for the nasty looks they gave him, they left him alone. They turned down the way Harry had just come from and disappeared around the corner. Now Harry really got suspicious, he doubled back and peeked around the corner.

Like he expected, the two walked up to Professor Snape's office and knocked. The Professor opened and let Malfoy in, though then he stepped outside himself and waited there together with Nott. That was strange. Harry wondered what Mr. Malfoy wanted with his son that was so secret. At first he heard nothing, but then the screams started. They send a chill down Harry's back. Even at the distance he could see Nott go pale, too. Harry didn't know what was happening, but it sounded like Mr. Malfoy was killing Draco. He couldn't believe Professor Snape just stood there and did nothing.

Finally, the screaming stopped and Mr. Malfoy stepped out on the corridor, dragging his son after him and callously dropping him on the stone floor. Was that blood on Malfoy's exposed skin? Harry was horrified. Uncle Vernon had mistreated him a lot and he had gone without dinner plenty of times or been locked in his cupboard under the stairs, but his uncle had never beaten him even once. Professor Snape didn't seem to care for Draco's state. Mr. Malfoy nodded at him, Snape nodded back, then without so much as looking at his son Mr. Malfoy turned around to leave.

He quickly strode down the corridor towards where Harry was, so Harry had to retreat in a hurry. He turned and ran all the way up the stairs and didn't stop before he reached the portrait of the fat lady on the seventh floor. Completely out of breath, he gasped the password: “Fortuna Major!” Only when the portrait hole had closed behind him again did he feel save.


	14. Friday, November 5th

Draco retreated to their bedroom right after dinner again. Theo had joined him, he sat on his bed, reading, while Draco lay on his. Theo looked up from his book and eyed his friend, who was lying on his chest to give his abused rear a rest. In the morning under the showers Draco's ass had been quite pinkish still and even though he tried not to let it show, Draco had had trouble sitting on it all day. At least the lesions were all gone, Professor Snape's healing salve had done wonders for that.

At the thought of the Professor, Theo looked at the clock and quickly got up. He had almost forgotten about his detention!

“You doing OK?”, he asked Draco.

“Sure”, Draco said.

He still sounded a bit down, but he was way better than yesterday. Theo smiled. He went over to the underwater window to the lake and poured himself a glass of water from the big jug that sat on the sill. He gulped it down in one go before he could reconsider. He wasn't thirsty, he just... He wanted to do it himself! He had been fantasizing about it ever since he had seen Draco desperate in potions class, but he never actually dared. Not with all their classmates around as witnesses. But tonight, it would just be him alone. He quickly refilled his glass and drowned it a second time, then he turned around and grabbed his cauldron and school bag.

“I'll be off for detention”, he said.

“Sorry I got you into this”, Draco muttered, “you shouldn't be the one who gets punished!”

“Don't worry!”, Theo grinned.

When he stepped out on the corridor, his eyes fell on the door tot he washroom and his resolve wavered for a second. He kind of had to pee a little already. No, he'd do this today! He turned the other direction and quickly crossed the Common Room.

As he passed their potions classroom on his way to Professor Snape's office, he noticed that the door was open. He was about to walk past it, when he glimpsed inside and saw the Professor sitting at the teacher's desk. Theo stopped and stepped into the classroom instead. Potter was there, too, silently scraping flobberworm mucus or worse residues off the tables.

“Professor?”, Theo asked.

“Ah, Mr. Nott, come in, take your seat! You do know which potion you were supposed to prepare in the lesson you missed?”

Theo went over to his usual table and put down his cauldron on the little stove. He said: “Yes, Sir. Wideeye potion.”

“I assume you did your homework and know how to brew it?”

“Yes, Professor. Six dried billywig stings and four measures of crushed snake fangs mixed with-”

“Thank you, Mr. Nott. Mr. Potter! What important change to the recipe from your book did you learn in class?”

Potter winced involuntarily as he heard his name. He quickly replied: “Boil the potion for a minute before one lets it simmer, Sir. That way the brewing time can be cut in half.”

“Remember to do that, Mr. Nott! I do not intend to spend all night waiting for you to finish”, Professor Snape said. He didn't sound too happy that Potter apparently had gotten it right. Theo grinned, Potter was an ass and just because he was famous the teachers favoured him. Professor Snape was one of the few who saw the snotty brat for what he really was.

“Yes, Sir”, Theo said and went over to the sinks to fill his cauldron. The running water reminded him of his need to pee, it was exciting and terrifying at the same time. He hadn't planned for Potter to be there with him, though.

Theo replaced his cauldron on the stove, then he got the necessary ingredients. He made sure to double-check with the list in his book. Six billywig stings, three snake fangs, two springs of wolfsbane, check. He threw the billywig stings into the cauldron and ignited the fire. While they slowly started to heat up, he mixed the snake fangs with standard ingredient and ground them to a fine powder in his mortar.

Once the brew was boiling, he turned the heat down. he added the crushed ingredients as well and stirred it like the recipe said. Then he had to wait. He looked at the slowly bubbling potion. That was a mistake, for his bladder gave him an angry twinge. He quickly looked away from the liquid. The water was making its way through him even faster than he had expected. Theo eyed the recipe in his book again. It said to let the brew simmer for 95 minutes. Even if he cut that in half as Professor Snape had said, it was still almost an hour! And the potion wasn't even finished then. Theo began to wonder if he could make it through detention. He nervously started to seesaw his legs and looked around in the room.

Professor Snape was immersed in his reading. Some worn looking grimoire, probably on forbidden potions or undetectable poisons or somesuch. Or so Theo imagined. He tried to get a glimpse at the title, but the Professor was covering it with his hand.

Potter was still busily scraping away at the petrified flobberworm mucus.

“You missed a splotch there”, Theo helpfully informed him.

Potter shot him an annoyed glance and continued his work. Theo eyed his brew again, then he looked at the clock. Hardly any time had passed. He felt a spasm from his bladder. He really, really had to piss! He scissored his legs. It was weird, his bladder was so full it almost felt painful, but at the same time it made his member start to get stiffly. Theo had trouble concentrating on anything but the conflicting sensations in his lower abdomen.

“Is Malfoy OK?”

Theo almost jumped at Potter's whispered words. He hadn't noticed the other boy slowly make his way over. Potter was now working on the table one row behind Theo's. Theo sat up straight and tried to stop fidgeting.

He eyed Professor Snape to make sure he was still reading, then he turned around and silently hissed back at Potter: “Yeah, don't worry, your Mudblood friend doesn't hit that hard!” In the morning they had had a little run-in with with Potter and Granger. They had made fun of Draco – like they didn't know exactly how he really had ended up in the girl's bathroom! Especially Granger had acted all lofty and righteous. Draco had told her to shut up and when he had tried to grab her, she actually had slapped him in the face and called him a creep.

“Don't call her that!”, Potter said, “and she had a point!”

They both stared at each other angrily. After an awkward moment of silence, Potter added: “I was talking about last evening. With his dad.”

Theo's heart skipped a beat and he almost let a tiny drip escape into his briefs. He quickly pressed his legs together. Calmly, he said: “No idea what you're talking about, Potter.”

Potter bit his lip. “I saw, OK? Is he alright?”

Theo jumped up and drew his wand. He pointed it right at Potter's face. “It's all your fault!”, he hissed angrily, “are you happy about what you did? Do you have to rub it in? I swear, if you say a word to Draco-”

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Nott!”, Professor Snape's sharp voice interrupted him, “I suggest you let Mr. Nott work in peace, Mr. Potter!”

“Sorry, Sir!”, they both said. Theo slowly lowered his wand and sat back down. He could feel he had dampened his briefs a tiny bit.

“I just felt sorry for him”, Potter muttered, “if you're such an ass about it, I regret I even asked!”

They exchanged another long, loathing stare, then Theo made a point of turning back around and focusing on his brew again while Potter continued his work in silence.

Staring at the lazily bubbling liquid brought Theo's thoughts back on his current issues. He surreptitiously moved a hand down and grabbed himself. He moaned silently. Merlin, he was getting hard for real! He felt the little wetness of his briefs against his skin and it turned him on even more. Theo secretly eyed Potter, the ass had made his way to a row of desks further in the back. Theo's eyes wandered to the Professor. Engrossed in his reading again.

Theo fidgeted. He eyed the clock. Still ten minutes to go before he could take his brew off the stove. Maybe he could let out just a little squirt to ease the pressure a bit? Just enough to dampen his briefs some more. He eyed Professor Snape again. The thought of deliberately peeing himself right in front of him and Potter felt exciting. Terrifying. But really exciting!

He shifted around a bit on his seat and made sure again that neither of the two was watching him. Then he tried to relax. His bladder felt like it was bursting, yet he had trouble to let go. He tried to push. Suddenly, he felt a small squirt get out. Panicky, he immediately stopped the flow.

His briefs hardly felt any wetter. Theo looked down, nothing showed on his trousers yet. He closed his eyes and relaxed again. Another squirt escaped, longer this time. The wetness spread to his butt and Theo quickly forced himself to stop. His bladder spasmed fiercely in protest, he doubled over and groaned silently, but he managed. Peeing a little almost had made him have to go even worse!

Once the pain subsided, he quickly sat up again. Neither the Professor not Potter seemed to have noticed a thing. Theo worriedly looked down. His trousers didn't show any wetness in the crotch, but he was afraid he might have soaked their back a little. Fuck, his briefs felt really damp! He had a full-on erecting right now.

He turned off the stove and threw the wolfsbane sprigs into his cauldron. He didn't really care if he had waited long enough. A few counter-clockwise stirs and a wave of his wand and the brew turned a greenish-turquoise hue. Theo eyed his textbook. That was probably right.

“Professor Snape?”, he asked, “I'm done!”

The Professor put the grimoire aside and came over. He critically examined the potion.

“It's acceptable”, he finally decided, “I expect more from you, Mr. Nott! Go clean up you things!”

“Yes Sir! Sorry, Sir!”, Theo said.

He made sure his robe covered any possible wetness on his trousers as he got up, then he dumped the content of his cauldron into the sink. He felt another small squirt escape into his pants and he desperately pressed his legs together. He quickly rinsed the cauldron – which was pure agony. Then he ran back to his desk and stuffed his things into his school bag.

“All done, Sir! May I go now?”, he asked, trying not to jump from one foot to the other too obviously.

“You may. Mr. Potter, you can finish for today as well!”, Professor Snape said.

Theo hastily walked out. The second he had passed the door and was out of sight, he started running. He made a beeline for the bathroom across the hallway and burst inside. He dropped his school bag and cauldron on the floor and rushed over to the urinal, pulling down his trousers and his damp briefs while he ran. Then he started peeing. He was pissing so forceful, the jet splattered loudly on the porcelain. His erection made it hard to aim.

Theo silently moaned. He couldn't believe he had been able to hold in so much pee. It felt like he pissed for an eternity.

Finally, his bladder had fully emptied and his stream ran dry. Theo examined his trousers and like he had feared, the back was a little wet. He got out his wand and cast a quick cleaning charm on them. Then he pointed the wand at his briefs, but he hesitated. After a moment of deliberation, he just pulled them up wet as they were. They didn't feel hot any more like they had right after he had peed them but a bit clammy already and they clung to his skin. Theo closed his eyes and felt over the wet fabric with his hand, rubbed it against his stiff member. Another moan escaped him, louder this time. It felt so naughty!

He quickly pulled up his trousers over the wet briefs and went over to the sinks to wash his hands. He carefully examined his butt in the mirror to make sure the briefs didn't soak through the trousers, then he grabbed his stuff and left.


	15. Saturday, November 6th

Draco was still a bit down and he tried to avoid his schoolmates. Especially today. Everybody talked about the Quidditch game. And on top of everything else, it was his fault Slytherin wasn't playing and Gryffindor would face Hufflepuff instead. So he really was not in the mood to go watch the match. His ass still hurt, too, and he wasn't keen on sitting on a wooden bench in that dreadful weather out there for hours on end either.

Theo was the only one who wasn't either still mad at him or wanted to ridicule him, so Draco was quite happy he chose to stay as well and keep him company. Once everyone else had left the two sneaked up the top of the Astronomy Tower and made themselves comfortable in the Astronomy classroom. No one would bother them up there, everyone was at the Quidditch match, it was almost like they had the entire castle all for themselves. Besides, no one usually came up here outside classes anyways – technically, they weren't exactly allowed to be here either. Just to make extra sure, Theo had cast a ward on the door.

They lay down on the floor right by the big window. Usually they would have had a phenomenal view of the castle grounds and the forbidden forest, but with the storm that was raging on outside, they could hardly see all the way to the Quidditch pitch. The tempest was almost an even more impressive sight. They could almost imagine the tower quaking under its onslaught, the angry wind howling around it and rain constantly hammering against the big window. Draco shuddered, the downpour made him have to pee. Maybe it wasn't so bad they weren't playing today after all, he really didn't want to be out there on his broom. Potter probably was soaked to his bones already, there was no way he'd even see the snitch, let alone catch it in that dreadful weather!

Theo put his arm around Draco's shoulders, and Draco let it happen.

“So you send an owl to your parents this morning?”, Theo asked.

“Yeah, to my mom. To... explain things”, Draco said.

“Think she'll believe you?”

“I don't know. Dad probably still wants to kill me.”

Theo inched closer and snug up to Draco. He suggested: “You can always hide out at my place till they've calmed down.”

Draco chuckled.

“Seriously!”, Theo said, “say, umh, I wanted to ask... wanna spend Christmas at my place? My dad is working all the time, he doesn't care what we do. We'd practically have the house all for ourselves. It'd be great!”

He looked so nervous as he asked.

“That sounds kinda cool”, Draco admitted and pressed a kiss on Theo's lips. Theo's eyes grew wide in surprise, then he hugged Draco and eagerly kissed him back. “It's agreed then!”, he said as their lips finally parted for a moment again.

“I have to ask my parents first”, Draco cautioned, “I should probably wait for my mom's answer first.”

Theo gently pushed Draco over so he came to lay on his back and crawled on top of him. Draco's bladder twitched in protest as Theo unintentionally pressed down on it. Draco had had to pee for a while, but it felt so good to have Theo cuddled up to him and he hadn't wanted to get up. It didn't help that Theo was leaning on his stomach, though.

Theo tried to kiss him again, the real naughty kind with tongue. Draco pushed him away a little. “You sure the door is locked?”, he asked while he wiggled around a bit, trying to find a position where Theo's thigh wasn't firmly planted in his lower abdomen.

“Yeah, absolutely sure!”, Theo said and pressed his lips against Draco's again. Draco opened his mouth to let his tongue in. Theo snug even closer to Draco as they continued to kiss and Draco put his arms around Theo's shoulders.

After a very long time, their lips finally parted again. “Theo?”, Draco asked softly.

“Yeah?”, Theo smiled.

“Can you get off me for a second? I gotta pee.”

“Just hold it”, Theo murmured.

“I can't! I have been for the last hour. Come on, move!”

“Don't wanna.”

“Come on, you're pressing down on my bladder!”

Theo drew even closer and shifted his legs around a bit, pushing on Draco's lower abdomen even more. “No.”

Draco groaned. “Stop it! I'm gonna piss my pants!” His bladder spasmed and he panicky moved a hand down, but Theo caught it.

“Just do it then!”, he said.

“WHAT?”, Draco asked.

Theo gently, but firmly forced Draco's hand back up. He faced Draco and softly repeated: “I said: Do it! We can clean up afterward easy enough.”

Draco gasped as Theo leaned down on his bladder even more. “Don't!”, he whined, horrified, “I'll loose it for real!” He squirmed as he felt a first drip dampen his briefs. “Please! It'll get all over you, too!”

“I don't mind. Just let go!”, Theo cooed and pressed a kiss on Draco's lips as he pushed down on him even more.

Draco moaned, his bladder spasmed so madly. Another squirt escaped into his briefs, then suddenly his floodgates fully gave way. He tried to stop it, but he just couldn't. He felt the hot piss surge into his pants, it felt so good, Draco shuddered as he forcefully started to piss himself.

The wetness seeped through his trousers within seconds and spread around him, he was mortified at what was happening. He closed his eyes, too ashamed to look at his friend, but too relieved to stop peeing.

After an eternity, when his bladder finally had fully emptied and he had long since stopped pissing, Draco dared to open his eyes again to face Theo. Theo hadn't said a single word still, he hadn't drawn away either. He was just looking down on Draco, smiling softly. Draco croaked: “I'm sorry! I-I warned you!”

He wiggled around under Theo awkwardly. Then he felt it.

“Man, you got a stiffie?”, he asked.

Theo blushed heavily. “Sorry. That... that was kinda hot!”

“You're weird!”

“Good weird or bad weird?”, Theo asked, cautious.

“Weird weird!”, Draco decided.

They both grinned, and Theo kissed him again. Theo's hand wandered down to Draco's wet pants. Draco gasped as he felt the touch, but he didn't stop Theo as the hand first unbuttoned his trousers and then slid into his briefs.


	16. Thursday, November 11th

The other students were still talking behind Draco's back, so he wasn't too unhappy about the extra assignment Professor Snape had given him. Theo had to do some work of his own and they couldn't hang out like usual. The assignment gave Draco an excuse to hide in the library where few people bothered him. Though, of cause, when he arrived know-it-all Granger was sitting at a table in the front to announce to all the world what a diligent and hardworking Mudblood she was. She gave him the stink eye, did she think he was stalking her or something? Ridiculous!

Draco ignored her and approached Madam Pince to hand her his permission slip for the restricted section. She took the note from him and held it to the light to examine Professor Snape's signature, like she was convinced it had to be a forgery. It passed her test however, and she grudgingly returned the note to him.

“Wait here!”, she instructed and went to fetch his book for him.

While he waited, Draco eyed Granger, she was still staring at him. He grimaced back at her.

Madam Pince returned and handed a copy of Moste Potente Potions to him. “Here you are, boy. Be careful with that!”

“Thanks”, Draco muttered. He wasn't sure which she was referring to, the contents of the book or the book itself. Probably both. He looked over to Granger again. “Can I borrow it?” Somehow, the quiet of his bedroom seemed way more comfortable than the library with Granger's constant stare burning in his neck.

Madam Pince looked like she had bitten into an especially sour lemon. “You may”, she said.

Every time Draco dared to ask to borrow a book, she treated him like a criminal, even though he had never done anything to deserve her scorn. He was no ill-bred Mudblood who ripped out pages or doodled all over them! And he had dutifully returned every book he had borrowed – not always exactly on time maybe, but never even a single dogear on a page! He signed for Moste Potente Potions and quickly slipped out before she could change her mind.

Back in his room, he lay down on his bed and opened the book. He wasn't really in the mood to begin with his essay, besides, this treasure in his hands was a book full of forbidden potions! So, naturally, he had to study it at length. He looked over the table of contents – everything sounded interesting, so he just started to browse.

In truth, none of the potions in Moste Potente Potions were forbidden for real, they were more like really complicated and dangerous if done wrong. Still exciting. And Merlin, there were quite a few more than dangerous ones among them! Of cause, they weren't identified as poisons per se, but Draco wasn't stupid. Often, the only difference between a potent healing potion and a deadly poison was the dosage. Professor Snape always went to great lengths to warn them about the adverse effects of getting this or that part of a recipe wrong or of making some brew too strong. Only, what if you didn't do it by accident? Draco had long realized that the Professor used this loophole to teach his less daft students about poisons right under that do-gooder Dumbledore's nose. The potions in Moste Potente Potions were very potent indeed and they all came with a long list of warnings. One just had to read it right to learn about the potential.

For a while Draco indulged in the fantasy of killing Potter and the Weasel with one of the especially slow poisons – and watch them in their agony. He grinned and skipped ahead a few more pages. There were a lot of advanced and very interesting poisons in this book! Very interesting, and possibly useful for revenge. Of cause he didn't actually intend to kill the two assholes – humiliate certainly, maim maybe, but not murder... probably – but not every brew was only useful for its nasty side effects and not every nasty side effect was outright deadly.

Polyjuice potion for example. That one sounded interesting. Maybe he could disguise himself as some Mudblood and sneak into the Gryffindor dormitories to... to what? Win a duel against all Gryffindors at once? He shrugged off the thought and looked at the potion on the next page. Laxative potion. Strong laxative. He giggled. Somehow, even the intended effect of that brew sounded like a hilarious curse to him. It was followed by a diuretic potion. Fuck, they had made him wet his pants so often, he'd SO get back at them with that for real! In a way, he was already being punished for allegedly poisoning Potter, so why not? It even warned never to take the potion undiluted for it was very potent. Perfect! Just perfect!

The only downside was that he didn't have all of the ingredients. But he knew Professor Snape had a supply for his advanced classes, Draco would somehow have to sneak them out of his office. That was a minor problem. “Minor” as in “excruciatingly painful death” if he got himself caught, but that just meant he mustn't let the Professor catch him, right?

 

* * *

 

Theo breathlessly rushed into the library, he was late. Of cause, Granger was already there, and she didn't look too happy. He quickly got over to her. They were supposed to give a presentation on why Muggles needed electricity together for Muggle studies. Teamed up with a Mudblood. For a presentation on Muggles. Theo probably should have considered himself fortunate for scoring the easiest 'Outstanding' in his life. If only know-it-all Granger weren't already insufferable when she merely thought she knew better than anyone else. She was worse when she actually did.

He sat down besides her and smiled: “Hi, sorry I-”

“You're late”, she cut him off instead of a greeting.

Their truce-like relationship had cooled off considerably since that incident with Draco.

“I'm sorry”, Theo said meekly. He reminded himself that it was Granger and her friends who were in the wrong here.

“What is it with you boys always putting off work?”

“I already got through all the articles Professor Burbage gave us”, Theo huffed. He showed her the newspaper clippings. “Here, I underlined the important parts. I think those two are the most useful for our presentation. That one is about the dangers of electricity, I really don't get how Muggles can survive with all that.”

Granger hardly glanced at the clippings. “I thought maybe we should start our presentation with some the most common misconceptions witches and wizards have about electricity and then we would explain how it really works.”

“What? Why? What misconceptions?”

She eyed the newspaper stories again. “Theodore, what do you actually know about electricity?” She had begun to call him by his given name some time ago, and though he made a point of continuing to address her with her surname, she stubbornly refused to get the message.

“Well”, Theo said hesitantly. Not much, if he was completely honest. “Well”, he repeated, “there are different kinds of electricity?” That he knew for a fact. Once a man had come to their house, who had wanted to sell them some new kind of electricity, he had even left Theo a brochure on it for his dad. Theo hadn't really gotten what made this new kind different, but apparently it was somehow better and cheaper than the old one. Probably made electric things run smoother or something. The pictures in the brochure hadn't moved, though. Theo suspected it had been electric, too, and that was why it didn't work at their home. “And Muggles are really dependent on it. Since they know no magic, they have to run everything on electricity. But it is a bad substitute. It is really complicated to get it to work properly. Electricity breaks real easy, too. Like, residual magic can break it. Or just bad weather... I think?”

Granger sighed.

Theo back-pedaled: “I mean, you probably know way more about those things, being a Mudblood and all... Merlin! I'm sorry, I didn't-”

“Mudblood and proud of it!”, Granger said aloud.

“I didn't mean to say that! I'm really sorry!”, Theo tried to hush her.

“But I am a Mudblood, am I not?”, she asked.

“Don't call yourself that, OK? It's... demeaning. A-anyways, since you know better about it... what's wrong with those articles?”

“For starters, they're all written by wizards.”

“Yeah?”, Theo agreed, unsure what her problem was.

“Maybe they should have asked a Muggle instead or at least a Mudblood.”

Theo winced at the word. “But, look, this one is even written by your friend's dad, he's an expert on Muggles, isn't he?”

“Mr. Weasley can't even spell 'electricity' right”, Granger pointed out.

Theo had wondered about that. In fact, he had been a bit worried that this 'eckeltricity' stuff Mr. Weasley kept on talking about in his article might have been something entirely different from the subject of their essay. He asked: “So, what do you suggest we should base our presentation on instead?”

He had hoped to give Granger some pause with that question, but she only seemed to have waited for it. She said: “Here, I asked my parents to send me my old elementary school science book.”

She got a rather strange book from her bag and showed it to Theo. It was quite thin and it said “Physics” on the cover in multi-coloured letters over some equally colourful pictures. Granger opened it and skipped through the pages until she apparently had found the chapter she was looking for. The inside was illustrated with many pictures and drawings as well though none seemed to move – maybe they were electric – and there was surprisingly little text. The pages were strange, too. Of cause, Theo knew what paper was, several of the Muggle-born students used paper writing pads, but he had rarely seen a book made of it.

“It's actually quite easy”, Granger interrupted his bemused observations, then she started to speak in utter gibberish. She pointed at this diagram or that drawing while she talked about batteries and electric circuits and light bulbs and magnets and... Theo's head started to spin. He honestly tried to follow her explanations and it actually sounded kind of fascinating. There were certain rules to how electricity worked, so much he got, just like there were with magic. Only, unlike magic, he didn't understand those rules one bit!

Granger continued to talk. And talk. And talk. Theo's eyes started to glaze over. He groaned silently. That girl loved to hear her own voice! She was in the middle of some lengthy speech about batteries, when Theo tried to interrupt her for what was about the third time: “Umh, Granger?”

She just droned on. He half-suspected she wouldn't even notice if he quickly got up to go to the loo, but that would be rude. Louder, he repeated: “Granger!”

“I thought, maybe we could even build a lemon battery for demonstration. What do you think?”, she said.

“A what?”, Theo asked, confused.

“Lemon battery. If you put two pieces of metal in a lemon, you can power a small electric light with it”, she explained matter-of-factly.

“Dragon shit!”, Theo said, “that's not a battery!”

“Honestly, you can build a battery from a lemon, look!” She pointed at a picture of two halved lemons with some wires sticking out of them. “We build one in Muggle elementary school.”

Theo eyed the picture suspiciously, he still was half convinced Granger was pulling his leg. “I guess. Why don't you write that down while I quickly go to the loo-”

He was already halfway up, but she grabbed his arm. “Oh no, you don't!”, she said resolutely, “Ron and Harry always play the same trick on me! You'll be gone forever and I'll end up doing all the work by myself!” She went on about how they were supposed to do their assignment together and how this was a unique opportunity to present both views on the subject... and mostly on how boys were foolish and lazy oafs and how she had had it with them and their tricks and wouldn't put up with any more ruses to get out of work. Theo wasn't quite sure if he should feel more sorry for her or for Potter and Weasley.

He sat back down. He actually had to pee, but he told himself it wasn't that urgent and he could hold it a while longer. Granger WAS a bit scary when she got angry. And he really didn't have to go THAT urgent.

He obediently got a piece of parchment and copied down the instructions on how to build a lemon battery. One lemon. Light emitting diode. Wires. Two metal e-l-e-c-t-r-o-d-e-s (Theo made sure to spell the word right. Apparently, Mr. Weasley was correct and there were different kinds of electricity after all). Granger insisted on them being made from two specific, different metals. Theo considered it mostly superstition, but her textbook said so, too, so he made a note of them being copper and zinc.

They continued to plan what else to do in their presentation. Theo ended up mostly writing down what Granger said, though she occasionally did ask for his input. It usually ended up in the “common misconceptions wizards have about electricity”-category. Theo was a bit irked by that, but on the other hand Granger by far didn't know everything about electricity either. It was actually quite fun to see her first dismissively trash his questions to then watch her grasp for words herself and bury her head in that Muggle textbook on a search for an explanation.

Time flew by, and soon Theo was on his third piece of parchment. They would have to cut out some of their examples if they even wanted to have time left for the actual topic of their presentation. He was kind of getting desperate for the loo, though. He had had an extra glass of pumpkin juice for lunch and hadn't been to the bathroom since. He started to nervously rock his knee. His bladder felt so full! Of cause, he could just have told Granger that he really needed the loo and went at any time. But in a strange way it had turned him on when the bossy girl had denied him the bathroom and in his mind it had become some weird game between them.

As his need grew, he was increasingly unable to focus on their work, but he didn't say a word, fantasizing about Granger refusing him his much needed relief. Granger noticed his inattentiveness and got quite irritated, again launching into a tirade about lazy boys. Her bad temper fit in well with Theo's imaginary scenario.

He silently moaned and bend over at an especially bad twinge from his lower abdomen. His left hand wandered down to his crotch to give himself an urgently needed squeeze. Merlin, he was getting hard again!

“Are you even listening?”, Granger fumed, “you're as bad as Ron! Why do I always end up doing you boys' work for you?”

Theo's bladder spasmed and a small squirt escaped into his briefs. He gasped and desperately pressed his legs together. Suddenly, he realized that he was about to loose it for real. Right there. It felt like the most terrifying and at the same time the most exciting thing that could possibly happen to him. Then his brain started working again. He couldn't have a real accident in public! Staggering, Theo got to his feet. Granger was still complaining about the Weasel's short attention span or something. “Sorry, I really gotta go to the bathroom!”, he muttered. He ignored Granger's protest and, his hand pressed to his groin, quickly made his way over to the exit.

Luckily, there was a boy's room just across the hallway, Theo ran over and burst inside. The sight of the row of urinals made his bladder twitch and he felt another squirt dampen his already quite wet briefs some more. Theo made a step towards the urinals and panicky fumbled with his belt, then he stopped. Jumping in place, he turned around to the toilet stalls to make sure he really was alone. None was occupied. Theo bit his lip, then he made a decision and hobbled over to the nearest stall. With a sigh, he pushed the door shut behind himself.

Then he removed the hand that was still firmly pressed to his groin and looked down at himself. He felt like he was bursting, yet it was surprisingly difficult to overcome years of training and just let go. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He slowly exhaled and tried to relax. Suddenly, he felt the hot wetness seep through his briefs and spread on his chest all the way up to his navel. He gasped. His stiff member was pointing straight up.

Once he had started, he wouldn't have been able to close his floodgates again even if he had tried. The piss soaked the bottom half of his shirt and the front of his pants, began to run down his legs and into his shoes. His trousers turned a glittering dark with wetness. It reached the bottom of his pants legs and gushed out, pooling around his feet. Theo tried to slow down his stream so the fabric had more time to soak it all up. He felt that kind of sensation like he was about to cum right as he was peeing.

Theo moaned aloud. He got a little dizzy and had to lean against the cubicle wall. Panting, he let the last of his piss flow out of him. Merlin's knickers! He had never come before without even touching himself!

When he had caught his breath, he looked down at his completely soaked trousers. He shifted around a bit to savour the feeling, but the piss was cooling off fast and his pants were already getting clammy. Theo sighed.

Then he remembered that Granger was probably already impatiently waiting for his return. For a second he had the horrible vision of her storming into the boy's room to drag him back to work, wet trousers and all. He hurriedly cast a cleaning spell on himself and vanished the puddle on the floor, then he stepped over to the sinks to wash his hands and quickly got out of the loo.

A surprisingly meek Granger greeted him back in the library: “Sorry, I didn't realize you actually had to go bad. Why didn't you say so?”

Theo just silently sat down besides her again. Of cause, his pants were completely dry now, but just knowing what he had done in them not a minute ago made running around in these trousers feel so wicked! Theo's member was still stiff as a board. A silent moan escaped him as he nervously shifted around in his chair, overwhelmed by the feeling of complete naughtiness. Granger eyed him, confused and already growing impatient again. Theo quickly composed himself.

He couldn't really concentrate on their work anymore, though, and finally a somewhat irritated Granger gave up and they decided to finish their presentation the next day.


	17. Friday, November the 12th

Draco had spend most of the evening thinking over his idea and by morning he had it all figured out. He just needed Theo's help.

Like usual, Theo went to the loo before their potions lesson, and made sure Draco went with him. Draco was still a bit embarrassed that Theo would remind him of his bathroom needs, though today he followed him in without complains. Once inside, Theo immediately headed for the urinals, but Draco cornered him. He grabbed him by his arm and shoved him into one of the cubicles, pushing him against the wall.

“You're not normally that eager!”, Theo grinned, surprised, “I really gotta piss, you know? I haven't been to the loo since yesterday evening”, then he pressed a passionate kiss on Draco's lips. Draco could feel Theo's stiffie through his pants.

“Like that doesn't turn you on even more, you little pervert!”, he whispered and returned the kiss, but when Theo's hands wandered down and tried to get into Draco's trousers, he quickly grabbed them and forced them away.

“Wait!”, he grinned, “there is something I wanted to ask you. I need you to do me a real big favour!”

Theo's naughty hands went back to Draco's pants.

“Not that kind of favour!”, Draco laughed and tried to catch them.

“OK, I'll do it!”, Theo grinned and kissed him again.

“Don't you want to know what it is first?”

“No”, Theo purred. When had those bad hands unbuckled Draco's belt?

“I need you to help me break into Professor Snape's office.”

That sobered Theo up alright. “Have you gone completely insane?”, he spluttered, “no way!”

“Look, I've worked it all out! We ask Professor Snape for some volunteer work to improve our grades and earn some extra house points“, Draco explained, “and then you distract him so I can sneak into his office unnoticed. I just need some potion ingredients, I'll be only a second!”

“You are mad!”, said Theo. Strong words from someone who enjoyed peeing his pants.

“Well, do you want that Granger Mudblood get a better grade than you again this year?”

“No, my dad would skin me”, Theo admitted, “but that's not the point! Merlin's pants, Snape will kill us both and then he gets us in detention for all eternity!”

“You already promised”, Draco pointed out.

“No way, I'm not suicidal!”

“Fine, I'm doing it on my own then!”, Draco said angrily and turned around.

“Wait-”, Theo begged and embraced him from behind.

Draco brushed off Theo's arms and marched out of the cubicle. He turned towards the door.

“Wait!”, Theo repeated urgently and made a step after him, then he abruptly stopped, crossed his legs and grabbed himself. “Dragon dung!”, he muttered and hurriedly shuffled over to the urinal just as Draco stepped out on the corridor. Grinning to himself, Draco went over to the classroom and sat down at his usual place in the row behind Crabbe and Goyle. “Morning”, he said. The two turned around and happily greeted him. Draco had refused to let them copy his potions homework for a whole week – it had done wonders to reduce the two to their proper deferential state again. Neither of them would even mention the incident on the girl's toilet anymore, though Draco was still a bit pissed and considered withholding his homework for another week.

Theo joined them and sat down besides Draco. “I'm sorry”, he murmured. When Draco didn't reply, Theo shut up as well, which was just fine by Draco. If the traitor wouldn't help, Draco sure didn't need to hear his yammering.

They spend the lesson working in silence, occasionally catching each other at staring at the other, both pretending to be mad. Even so, Professor Snape praised the quality of their potion, which was a sign of how good a team the two had become.

Still, Draco was surprised that Theo got up as well and fell in besides him when after class he approached the teacher's desk. “What do you want?”, Draco silently hissed at him.

“I'm not letting you do this”, Theo whispered back.

Then they both fell silent as the Professor had noticed them. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, can I help you?”

If that snitch wanted to rat him out, let him! Draco was not going to back down! He said: “Professor, I wanted to ask if maybe you had some extra work I could help with outside class-”

“That both of us could help with!”, Theo interrupted him.

“That we both could help with”, Draco agreed with a mistrustful glance at his friend, “to improve our grades and to earn some of the house points back that I lost.”

Professor Snape looked them over sceptically. “You two gentlemen are volunteering for extra work?”, he asked. Draco thought the Professor really didn't have to sound that cynical about the suggestion. Sure, it wasn't exactly common for either of them to step forward like this, but still!

“Yes, Sir.”

The Professor thought about it for a moment. He ventured: “Professor Sprout is running low on fertilizer. You could help brew some for her.”

Theo grimaced, though he nodded his agreement just as Draco did.

“Good. Report to the potions lab in the afternoon – and bring your gloves!”

 

* * *

 

After their last lesson of the day – Defense Against the Dark Arts, which they both kind of liked, though now that Professor Lupin was back, they only learned about dull stuff again, not exciting things like werewolves, and Draco and Theo both missed Professor Snape – the two made their way down to the dungeons.

Theo had been trying to talk Draco out of his plan all day.

“Look, I'm doing this with out without your help!”, Draco told him, “are you gonna rat on me or not?”

“Of cause I won't!”, Theo said, hurt.

“So you're gonna help me then”, Draco decided.

Theo looked at him darkly, though he gave up on trying to change Draco's mind. If Draco absolutely had to get himself into life-long detention, so be it, but he was not going to help him with that!

Professor Snape awaited them in their classroom, he had already prepared two big cauldrons in the front of the room.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, there you are. You can begin right away!”, he greeted them, “I assume you remember how to make dragon dung fertilizer?”

“Yes, Sir”, the two said, less than thrilled.

The Professor had Theo come to the blackboard. Then he made Draco recite the recipe while Theo noted it down. It was easy enough. Stew some mandrake. Add more water and seven parts of dragon dung, put in a sloth brain and two rat spleens. Slightly toast a dragonfly thorax over the fire before you add it. Constantly stir while the mix cooks. Try not to choke on the smell. Take off the heat when it becomes gooey.

“Well, you have everything here you need”, Professor Snape pointed at the prepared reagents on the teacher's desk and a huge barrel in the corner, “Your recipe was for size two cauldrons, these are size eight, so you will have to to use four times the amount for the reagents!”

“Yes, Professor.”

Professor Snape made them correct the numbers on the blackboard – the Professor had to deal with Mudblood Gryffindors and other imbeciles all the time, so he occasionally forgot that some of his students actually could count – but once he was sure they had their numbers right, he told them to get going.

They began with the mandrake. While it stewed, they prepared the other ingredients. At last, they put on their gloves and went to weigh up the dragon dung. Its awful stink filled the room the second Theo lifted the barrel's lid.

“Thank you so much for this experience”, he whispered to Draco while he shoveled twenty-eight pounds of dragon dung in the vat they had placed on the scales.

“I didn't force you to come!”

“Yeah.”

Together, they carried the vat over to the first cauldron and lifted it up to dump the vile contents into the boiling water. Then they repeated the process for the second batch – Theo insisted that this time the rewarding task of filling the vat fell to Draco.

Professor Snape made sure they prepared the correct amount of each ingredient, but he apparently was just as keen as Theo and Draco to oversee the whole procedure. He hardly waited until they had filled the second cauldron with dragon dung, when he asked if they had any more questions about the brew. Since neither of them did, the Professor informed them that he had some urgent business to attend to elsewhere but that he would be back shortly. In the meantime they should fetch Professor Sprout from the teachers' lounge if there were any problems. He hardly waited for their nods before he was out of the room.

“Great!”, Draco immediately seized the opportunity, “keep a lookout at the door!”

“No! You're going to get us both into real big trouble!”, Theo said, alarmed.

Draco didn't listen, he just went over to the door to Professor Snape's office. He tried the handle without success, then he bowed down to inspect the lock. He got out his wand.

“You're mad! What if it's got a ward on it!”, Theo hissed.

“Alohomora!”, Draco exclaimed as he pointed his wand at the lock. I audibly clicked. “Just warn me if the Professor gets back!”, he said with a grin and tried the handle again, this time the door opened and he quickly slipped inside.

“No!”, Theo cried after him, but it was to no avail, “dragon dung”, he muttered. He angrily stared at the passageway, then he went over to the entrance to keep a lookout after all. What else was he to do?

Draco took his sweet time while Theo was sweating blood from worry. He constantly ran to stir the cauldrons and back to his lookout post at the door again. Finally, Draco reappeared. He silently closed the office door behind him and cast a locking spell on it, then he ran over to his school bag to stuff some dried plants into it.

He grinned: “Got everything!”

“You're completely insane! Isn't that Aconite? That's highly poisonous! What do you even need Wolfsbane for?”, Theo huffed.

“Oh come on, everything went according to plan!”, Draco said smugly, gleefully he explained: “I'm gonna get back at Potter. I'm-”

“You know what, I changed my mind. I don't want to know!”, Theo interrupted him.

“I'm not gonna hurt him for real or anything”, Draco muttered, defensively.

“I don't want to know.”

Theo was done arguing. This was getting insane and he didn't want anything to do with it. Draco looked at him almost disappointed, like Theo was the mad one. They continued their work in silence.

After an hour or so, just when the dragon dung fertilizer was starting to thicken, Professor Snape returned accompanied by Professor Sprout. Snape asked them if there had been any problems. “No, Sir”, they quickly said.

Theo felt awfully guilty. He nervously watched the Professor as he went over to unlock the door to his office and disappeared inside. Theo just knew there had been a ward and they were in deep dragon shit up to their necks. A moment later Professor Snape emerged from his office again with a pair of gloves in his hands. He put them on and went over to inspect their brews. He hadn't noticed anything amiss! Theo just stared at him, he couldn't believe their luck.

“Stop looking so guilty!”, Draco silently hissed, “are you trying to give us away?”

Theo quickly looked down, but the Professors either hadn't taken any notice or they thought it was the stench of the fertilizer that had made Theo look so queasy.

Once the brews had become completely gooey, they turned off the fires and the Professors enchanted the two cauldrons with a levitation charm. Snape pointed out to Professor Sprout that Theo and Draco had volunteered to help out. Professor Sprout looked surprised, though she thanked them both for their hard work. She told them this would reflect well on their Herbology grades, then she turned around and left, the stinking cauldrons lazily floating after her.

Professor Snape didn't bother with a thanks. He made them clean up the classroom and when they were done he just told them that they were free to leave. At least he was only his normal grouchy self and hadn't caught them. Theo thought them more than lucky for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 03.10.2014 Also corrected some spelling errors in the previous chapters.


	18. Monday, November 15th

When Theo and Draco entered the Great Hall for breakfast, Granger spotted them and immediately called Theo over. He had been supposed to meet with her the previous Friday to finish their Muggle studies presentation but had stood her up when he went to help Draco. He honestly had forgotten. When he had remembered, it had been too late and he hadn't known what to do. So Theo had successfully avoided her all weekend. She didn't look happy. Sheepishly, he went over, Draco tagging along after him.

“Where have you been on Friday?”, she asked.

“Sorry... I got detention from Professor Snape. I couldn't make it”, Theo quickly said. It was only a small lie.

“And you couldn't even send me a note?”

“I forgot.”

“All weekend?”

Potter and Weasley had turned around to give him hostile stares as well.

“I had other important homework to do”, he said weakly.

“Well, I almost finished our presentation while you slacked off!”

While the trio was looking at Theo, Draco seized the opportunity and sneaked around them. He was getting out a small vial from his pocket. Theo's eyes grew wide in horror. “NO!”, he yelled, but Draco just grinned at him evilly as he uncorked the vial and poured a small amount of its content into Potter's pumpkin juice. Theo realized that Potter, Weasley and Granger all stared at him, confused by his outbreak. He caught himself: “I... I mean I didn't slack off! I went through that article about Electricity again-”

“Which we won't use because it is all wrong!”, Granger interrupted.

Theo's eyes didn't leave Draco, who was leaning over to spike Weasley's drink as well. Just then Weasley started to turn around to see what Theo was staring at. “Weasley! Help me here! Your dad wrote that article! Tell her!”, Theo squeaked.

Weasley stopped and turned his attention back to him. He pointed out: “My dad collects plugs.”

Draco emptied the rest of the vial's content into Weasley's pumpkin juice.

“Exactly!”, Theo hastily agreed, “he is an expert!”

Somehow, the trio didn't seem to think so. Granger looked almost appalled by his logic, while Weasley and Potter seemed mostly embarrassed for Mr. Weasley. Meanwhile, Draco had pocketed the now empty vial again and, with an evil grin, backed off. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Draco was so getting himself expelled from school and Theo was his accomplice!

Potter grabbed his juice and took a small sip, Theo saw it all like in slow motion. He had the mad urge to slap the glass out of Potter's hand. Suddenly, he realized that he probably didn't want to be there when Potter keeled over. Or exploded. Or something. He had to get away!

He murmured: “A... anyways, how about we finish our presentation this afternoon?”

“You'll better be there this time!”, Granger threatened.

“I will!”, Theo promised.

He quickly retreated and ran over to the Slytherin table. Draco was already seated and looked extremely pleased with himself.

“You did great!”, he beamed at Theo as Theo sat down besides him.

“You're going to get us both expelled!”, Theo silently hissed back at him.

Draco just laughed.

“What did you put into their drinks anyways?”, Goyle asked. Draco had banned them all from their shared bedroom all Saturday to brew his secret potion, but he had not told any of them what it actually was.

“Just watch the two, the show will begin soon enough”, Draco said smugly. He bowed over to Theo and whispered: “Especially you! You'll love it!”

Theo eyed him, worried. What with all the innuendo? He secretly watched Potter and Weasley, both had already emptied their pumpkin juices and had gotten seconds. Theo expected them to choke or turn into frogs or whatever any second, but they finished their breakfast and still nothing had happened.

When Potter, Weasley and Granger got up to get to their class, Theo and Draco rose as well. They shared their first lesson, Care for Magical Creatures, so they followed the Gryffindors. So Theo had plenty of opportunity to continue to watch them and worry while they walked. Nothing. Maybe Draco had made a mistake with the potion? Theo secretly eyed him, but that smug smile was still on Draco's face like before.

 

* * *

 

On their way down to the forest outskirts, where Hagrid held his classes, Harry, Ron and Hermione talked about today's subject, the common puffskein. Ever since that lesson with the hippogriffs and Malfoy's stupid accident Hagrid had been scared and only brought the most harmless – and most boring – animals imaginable to class. Like flobberworms. Or puffskeins.

“They are like the dullest pets imaginable. They lie around and do nothing all day”, Ron just said. Depressed, he added: “A bit like Scabbers.”

Ron had owned a puffskein when he was a small boy.

“I read they are scavengers and they hunt spiders and other small prey”, Hermione added.

“I mostly fed it leftovers. And George said it used its long tongue to eat my bogeys in my sleep, but I think he was lying.”

“Eww”, Harry and Hermione laughed.

When they arrived at the enclosure at the outskirts of the forbidden forest, Hagrid was already awaiting them. He had a big basket filled with funny-looking custard-colored furballs about the size of a palm with him.

“Hi, Hagrid!”, the trio greeted him and Hagrid happily waved back at them.

“Those are puffskeins”, Ron needlessly informed them.

Hagrid had brought one for each student, he began handing them out to the class. Ron's immediately started to purr as he stroked its fur. Hermione and Harry held theirs a bit awkwardly in their hands, just like most students. Malfoy looked almost disgusted by the thing as Hagrid handed him the small creature, but then, so did Ron.

Once all students had their puffskeins, Hagrid began to explain the little critters and how to properly care for them at great length. “You can basically do whatever you want with the thing. It won't mind”, Ron muttered under his breath, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other, “you can even drop it to the ground or throw it around. Just don't use it for Bludger practice!”

“Ron! You didn't!”, Hermione whispered back.

“Fred did.”

Harry didn't really listen to their exchange nor to Hagrid's long-winded explanations, he was more preoccupied with his sudden need to go to the loo. It had hit him completely out of the blue, he hadn't had to go twenty minutes ago when they had left the castle. And then, suddenly, his bladder told him that it was getting really, really full. He didn't even know why, he hadn't had that much pumpkin juice for breakfast. He squirmed and surreptitiously crossed his legs.

Hagrid was just holding up a puffskein to show the class its tiny teeth and explaining about the more dangerous fanged breed. Harry eyed the tiny face of the puffskein in his hand and tried to make it open its mouth. It just purred at him. Harry moaned and hopped from one foot to the other, he felt like his need to pee grew worse every second. Just as he couldn't stand it any longer and was about to raise his hand to ask to be excused, Ron beat him to it.

“Can' yeh wait? Lesson's over in 'alf an hour”, Hagrid asked.

“No!”, Ron whined.

“Yeh gotta pee on a tree 'n, 's no bathroom 'ere”, Hagrid said.

Ron didn't seem to mind, he just pushed his puffskein into Harry's hands and immediately ran off in the direction of the trees, followed by the laughter of Malfoy and his gang.

“I really got to go, too, Hagrid!”, Harry said, urgently. He hardly waited for Hagrid's response before he shoved the two puffskeins onto Hermione and rushed after Ron, prompting the class to laugh even more.

Harry didn't care right then. Once he had reached the first trees, he dashed behind some bushes to get some semblance of privacy and hurriedly tugged at his belt. Ron was already relieving himself against a nearby tree, the sound of his forceful stream splattering against the bark almost made Harry loose it. He jumped in place while he fought his stubborn belt. Finally he managed to unbuckle it and yanked down his pants. He grabbed his tool and aimed it at the next tree. Then, with a very relieved sigh, he let go. He peed a whole lot, too. Harry decided that he probably had had to go back at breakfast already and just hadn't paid attention to his bladder.

He just shook off the last drops when Ron walked past him. Harry quickly pulled his pants up and went back with him. The stupid Slytherins were still chuckling when they rejoined class. Like Malfoy never had had to take a piss at an awkward time!

Hermione handed them back their puffskeins, she whispered: “Why didn't you two go before class?”

“Because I didn't have to go then”, Ron muttered, defensive. He sounded a bit like the small kid Harry felt like right then.

Hagrid continued his painstaking walk-through of the proper care of puffskeins. Harry listened anxiously and caught himself looking at the clock more and more. He already felt like he had to pee again! Finally, finally, Hagrid told them about their homework and was about to dismiss class. They were supposed to take care of the puffskein till their next lesson.

Malfoy harrumphed and muttered: “I'm gonna feed that stupid thing to my owl!” His friends laughed.

“What do I do if Crookshanks doesn't like him?”, Hermione asked. Harry silently groaned. He listened with crossed legs while Hagrid gave all of them some tips on how to deal with cats or other pets that might not like the puffskein. Then they were finally free to go.

Harry handed Hermione his puffskein again. “Can you hold it for a moment?”

“Why?”, she asked as she took it.

“I really gotta pee!”

“But you just went-”, she said, but Harry was already running towards the forest. She looked after him, confused. Then Ron pushed his puffskein on her, too, and rushed for the trees as well.

 

* * *

 

Ron did not know what was wrong with him and Harry. Ever since breakfast they had had to piss like constantly. He had not even drunken more than half a glass of pumpkin juice at lunch, and yet he hadn't made it through their transfiguration lesson without a toilet break. Luckily, Professor McGonagall would allow him to go use the loo, if grudgingly. Harry even had had to ask her to be excused twice, he was lucky the Professor liked him. Ron spared himself that humiliation at least, even though he had run out of the classroom and straight for the nearest bathroom the second the school bell rang. He made it only barely, too.

Their next lesson was Potions. Snape didn't like them. Besides, he was an ass and he didn't allow anyone to be excused from his class, not even his Slytherin students. Ron was still deliberating how he was going to get through his lesson as they entered the classroom.

“I'm quickly going to the loo, I gotta go again already!”, Harry told him as he deposited his schoolbag at their bench in the back. He looked at Ron questioningly.

“I'm coming, too”, Ron said quickly. He told himself it was just to make sure. He had just went no ten minutes ago and yet he already felt like he might have to go again soon. Harry impatiently stepped from one foot to the other as he waited for Ron to put his things down and follow him to the boys' room just across from their classroom.

When they stepped onto the corridor, they almost ran into Malfoy and his gang. The dragon shit seemed to be in an especially good mood today. “Going to the potty, Potter?”, he grinned as Harry made a beeline for the bathroom door, “and you're assisting him, Weasel?” His goons laughed stupidly. Ron ignored them and pushed past Malfoy to vanish into the bathroom as well.

Harry was already standing at the first urinal and pulling down his pants. With a relieved sigh he started to release a huge torrent of piss. Just the sound of it splattering against the porcelain was enough to make Ron's badder twitch. He stepped besides Harry and quickly unzipped his pants as well, then he started peeing.

“We should just have skipped Potions”, he muttered.

“No way, Snape has already seen us!”, Harry whispered back as he finished, “I'm just off detention, he would skin me alive!”

He was right, of cause. And it was only a single lesson, surely they could make it, right? Ron squeezed out the last drops of pee and stepped away from the urinal. He washed his hands, then he and Harry went back to their potions classroom.

Just as they entered the school bell rang and Professor Snape shot them an annoyed glare. They quickly went over to their places and sat down.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, how nice of you to honour us with your presence!”, Snape said acidly, “now that everybody is here finally, maybe we can start with today's subject, the Girding Potion. Miss Bulstrode, would you please come to the front?”

The first half of the lesson wasn't all bad. Boring, but not all bad. Millicent Bulstrode, an ugly Slytherin girl, gave a lengthy presentation on the effects of the Girding Potion and how to brew it. Ron listened half-heartedly and took some notes. The potion was supposed to increase ones endurance for several weeks after its consumption. His bladder gave him a nudge, asking to be emptied. Ron bit his lips, he could use some endurance today! Just let this lesson end already! His bladder really was feeling awfully full.

Harry leaned over, he whispered: “I gotta pee.”

“Me, too”, Ron silently groaned.

Finally, the stupid girl stopped talking and they could start with their potions. Getting up and moving around made Ron's urge to pee more bearable and for a short while, he almost managed to forget about his aching bladder.

He was rudely reminded of it once they had finished preparing the ingredients and had to set up their cauldrons. The sound of running water made him groan and he had to grab himself as he filled their cauldron with water. He nervously stepped from one foot to the other as he waited for it to fill up. On his way back to his place, he passed Malfoy's table.

“Gonna show us more of your potty dance, Weasley?”, Malfoy asked. His goons sniggered.

Ron felt himself blush. “Shut up, Malfoy!”

He forced himself to walk casually the rest of the way. He sat the cauldron on the fireplace and eased himself into his chair. Once hidden by the table, he immediately crossed his legs and a small sigh escaped his lips. Harry shot him a pained glance and Ron returned it worriedly. Harry seemed to be even worse off than him. He was hunched over in his seat, slightly rocking back and forth, his legs firmly pressed together.

Ron quickly turned on the fire and threw one set of fairy wings into the cauldron. He anxiously started to scissor his knees while he impatiently waited for the potion to start boiling. He had to piss so bad!

Malfoy and his stupid friends had noticed their predicament and he kept on glancing over to Harry and Ron and waving at them gleefully. Ron so hated that little dragon turd!

Ron added the first measure of doxy eggs to their brew and started to stir it. Harry moaned silently. Ron tried not to look too much at the swirling liquid either while he continued to toss in more doxy eggs. It was bad. Once all the eggs were in, he turned down the heat and put the ladle aside. He gave his member a much needed squeeze and sighed silently. There was no way he could make it.

Hesitantly, he raised his hand. Professor Snape took his sweet time before he finally saw him. “Yes, Mr. Weasley? Is there a problem?”

“May I please be excused, Professor? I need to go to the loo.”

“No, Mr. Weasley. You should have gone before my lesson”, Snape told him.

Malfoy poked his tongue at Ron and sniggered. Ron silently cursed under his breath. Hermione was glancing over to him, too, worried. Ron tried to straighten himself up as good as the pain in his lower abdomen would allow. He continued to scissor his legs.

A few minutes later, their potion had cooled down enough for them to mix in the ground up dragonfly thoraxes. Then they had to heat it again and stir until the brew turned blue. It was agony.

Harry wasn't doing so well either. He had his legs crossed and was shifting around on his chair constantly. The expression on his face was one of pure concentration. Just as Ron looked over, Harry raised his hand.

Professor Snape pretended he didn't see.

“Professor!”, Harry begged.

Snape looked up, his eyes searching the classroom, pretending he didn't see Harry. Finally, his eyes narrowed upon Harry. “Yes, Mr. Potter?”, he drawled.

“I really have to go to the bathroom! Please, I need to be excused, Sir!”

“I already told Mr. Weasley, you should have taken care of your business before! No, Mr. Potter!”

“It's an emergency, Professor!”

“Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“No, Sir”, Harry muttered and slumped down in his seat.

Ron whispered: “You OK?”

“I'm not gonna make it”, Harry whined. He had both hands pressed firmly to his groin.

“It's only twenty more minutes”, Ron tried to calm him. It didn't sound reassuring even to his own ears. Ron crossed his legs and tried to concentrate on the next step in making their potion. Was it boil and add three flying seahorses or add the seahorses and then boil? He nervously sifted through his notes. Harry's constant fidgeting and moaning was distracting him and making his own need to pee worse. Suddenly, Ron felt a small squirt escape and dampen his boxers. He desperately pressed his legs together and moved a hand down to help.

Malfoy was staring over and laughing constantly, he thought this funny. His stupid friend Nott was gawking, too. Ron moaned. He was so going to beat up that pile of dragon shit – and he wouldn't even use magic!

“Professor Snape!”, Harry's voice jolted him from his violent phantasies, “I have to be excused to go to the loo! Please, Professor! I can't wait any longer!”

“Five points from Gryffindor. I already told you, no, Mr. Potter!”

Harry whimpered. He bend over and started sniveling quietly, his hands pressed to his groin like his life depended on it.

“Only ten minutes”, Ron whispered. He had to hold himself as well.

Harry didn't answer. He just squirmed, then all of the sudden he gave a silent gasp and Harry started crying for real. A tiny hissing sound told Ron why and that Harry had lost his battle, though in Ron's ears the hissing was like thunder. His bladder spasmed fiercely and suddenly the hand in his groin felt wet. He desperately tried to stem the flow, but he couldn't. Hearing Harry piss himself and seeing his trousers turn dark from the pee, watching the first drips start to fall to the ground from his pants legs, it was just too much to bear, Ron removed his futile grip on his member. It felt SO good to finally let go.

At the same time, he was so embarrassed, he hoped he would die. He let his forehead drop onto the tabletop. The hot piss spread in his boxers and began to run down his legs. It soaked into his socks and shoes, then it started to trickle to the floor and added to the fast-growing puddle of Harry's pee.

Malfoy snorted and began to laugh uncontrollably. “Professor Snape! Professor Snape! Weasley is pissing his pants!”

The whole class turned to him and started to laugh.

“Potter has peed his pants, too!”, some kid piped in.

Everybody was staring at them. And Ron was still fucking peeing! He couldn't stop peeing! He really wished he would sink into the floor. But he didn't. Finally, when his exhausted bladder had relieved itself from all its content and the angry stream slowed down to a trickle, Ron finally managed to stop pissing.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley!”, Snape's cold voice cut through the laughter, irritated.

Ron slowly raised his head to face his teacher. Snape was staring at them.

He hissed: “To the front, both of you!”

Ron hesitated, he could see the anger in Snape's eyes. He swallowed hard and took a look down at the damage to his pants – they were completely soaked. Slowly, he got up and moved to the side to let Harry out as well. Harry stepped on the aisle after him, he looked like he was going to be sick. He awkwardly started to waddle towards the teacher's desk, Ron followed him. A huge, wet spot covered the back of Harry's work robe from his butt downwards. Ron knew his didn't look any better. As they walked past them, their classmates sniggered and laughed and silently chanted jeers of “Potty Potter!”. Someone added “Weasley whizzes!” to the chorus.

Harry and Ron lined up in front of the Professor's desk, embarrassedly staring down at their feet. They were in perfect view of everyone.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley”, Snape snarled.

Ron raised his eyes to face him, but he didn't withstand the scrutinising gaze of his teacher for more than a few seconds. He quickly looked back down at his toes again. There wasn't just annoyance in the man's eyes, it was disgust.

“You two are dismissed for today. Get your things, go to your dormitories and change your clothes”, Snape told them, “you both get a 'D' for not finishing your Girding potion.”

“Yes, Sir”, they murmured.

They turned around and quickly marched back to their table. Malfoy was having a real fit, Ron hoped the ass would choke on his laughter. Hermione was watching them, looking worried, though she didn't dare say anything. At least she and Neville weren't laughing. Professor Snape followed the two to back to their table. While they packed their things, he got out his wand. One wave of it, and the puddle on the floor vanished. A second wave and so did the unfinished potion in their cauldron. For some reason, the Professor didn't seem to think of treating them or their clothes to a cleaning charm as well, he put his wand away again and just stood there, glaring down on them.

Ron shot another glance at Hermione – she looked back sadly – then he and Harry fled the classroom.

The laughter finally subsided as Ron pushed the door shut behind them. He leaned against it heavily. “Please kill me, Harry!”

“Can you cast that cleaning charm again like on Hallowe'en?”, Harry asked. He looked down the thankfully deserted corridor and then back at his soaked trousers, scared.

Ron shook his head. He admitted: “That was Hermione. I don't know any cleaning spells.”

Neither did Harry. Luckily, classes were still on and they almost made it all the way to the Gryffindot tower unseen. They were almost there when on the sixth floor they ran into a group of seventh-year Ravenclaw girls. They didn't have time to hide either. The girls gawked at Harry and Ron as the two ran past them, but at least they didn't laugh. The two just continued to run the rest of the way. Panting, they arrived at the painting of the Fat Lady.

“Fortuna... Major!”, Harry gasped.

“Oh, in such a hurry?”, the Fat Lady asked, then her eyes narrowed on their trousers, “a little late, aren't we?”

“Fortuna Major!”, they both just shouted at her again.

Muttering to herself, she swung aside and let them in.

 

* * *

 

Theo and Draco ewre on their way to their Defense of the Dark Arts class, their last lesson of the day.

“I can't believe you actually did that!”, Theo said, “and you made me help you!”

“Potter so had it coming! It's just a harmless revenge prank, anyways!”, Draco grinned. He eyed Theo from the side, “come on, admit it already! You were so turned on in Potions!”

“Fuck you!”, Theo silently retorted. He could feel himself blush. It had been kinda hot to watch Potter and Weasley in their desperation, just thinking back to how they both had wet themselves gave him a boner again. But what Draco and he had done was still wrong! Poisoning another student, that was crossing a line, that was like serious!

Draco just laughed.

A short distance ahead, Potter and Weasley, looking rather wretched, exited the boys' room and turned in the direction of their classroom as well. Theo watched them awkwardly. “Are you sure it's harmless? They're going an awful lot!”, he whispered.

Draco shrugged. “Sue. I think so.”

“We're gonna get found out! We're so deep in dragon shit right now!”

“Nobody is going to find out!”, Draco told him, smug.

They both fell silent as they almost ran into Professor Lupin when they turned a corner. Theo felt himself melt under the Professor's probing eyes. He shot Draco a worried glance, he knew they were done for. But then the Professor just smiled at them: “Good afternoon, boys! Everything alright, Theo?”

“Yes, Professor! Of cause!”, Theo croaked.

Draco glared at him like it was Theo's fault he was such a crappy liar.

Professor Lupin didn't seem to take notice of their silent exchange. “I saw you're back at the Quidditch field, Draco. Your arm is full healed, then? Excited to be back in the game?”, he asked as they walked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Who do you think will win next Week's match? Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?”

“Ravenclaw!”, they both agreed.

“You'll face the winner, won't you?”

“Yeah, but not in ages!”, Draco complained.

Theo added: “We only play after the Christmas break.”

They entered the classroom just as the school bell rang.

“Well, you'll better train hard till then!”

“We'll flatten them!”, Draco declared.

“I'm sure you will. Now hurry to your places!”, Professor Lupin said. Theo shyly returned the Professor's smile before he turned around and ran after Draco. Draco didn't like Professor Lupin much and he often made fun of the Professor's shabby clothing and poor appearance behind his back. He mostly did it because he resented the Professor for favouring Potter. Theo kind of understood Draco, but on the other hand the man was nice to all his students. He wasn't a bad Defense teacher either – not as good as Professor Snape would have been, of cause. Still, Theo actually liked him a little.

Theo and Draco sat down at their table. At first, the lesson progressed as normal. Know-it-all Granger gave a short – or in her case not-so-short – recap of what they had learned about the hinkypunk the previous week. The creature was mostly harmless and boring, although it could throw fireballs if cornered. Only a complete idiot would fall prey to it.

Then Professor Lupin told them about this week's subject, the grindylow, a kind of minor water demon. The small, sickly-green creature was sitting in a fish tank in the front of the room, pressing its face against the wall and making faces at the class. Of cause, the professor had had to bring a live one, he liked his lessons to be “practical”. In that regard, he was a bit like that Hagrid fool. Theo wondered if he would bring an actual werewolf, too, once they covered that subject. He grinned at the foolish thought.

Meanwhile, Crabbe and the grindylow had entered a staring contest and were grimacing at each other. At last, the oaf had found his intellectual equal. Theo watched the two for a while while he listened to Professor Lupin's lecture. Though, as the lesson went on, he felt his eyes drawn to Potter and Weasley more and more.

Each one had already asked to be excused once. Was it Theo's imagination or was Potter fidgeting again already? There! Now he was reaching down to grab his crotch! Just watching Potter squirm made Theo's member want to go stiff. Theo forced himself to look away and focus on Professor Lupin's lecture again.

A moment later, he caught himself staring over to Potter and the Weasel again.

Draco leaned over and whispered: “Enjoying the show?”

“N-no! I want no part in it!” Theo quickly looked away again. He awkwardly eyed his crotch, convinced his erection was showing through his pants. He quickly shifted his robe around a bit to cover it up.

Draco chuckled.

Theo forced himself to look at the grindylow instead. It made a face at him and Theo poked out his tongue at it. It wiggled around its spidery fingers and tentacles. Theo's eyes wandered back to Potter. Potter was watching the clock intently and seesawing his knees. A few times he gingerly started to raise his hand only to immediately let it sink down again and continue to stare at the clock. His other hand was wandering down to his crotch and remaining there. Potter sure had to go bad! Theo couldn't take his eyes off him. Merlin's knickers! He was having a full erection.

“Think he'll wet himself again?”, Draco whispered.

Theo shot Draco a quick glance. He was gloating. “This prank is going too far!”, Theo told him. Professor Lupin eyed him and he fell silent, looking attentive. Draco grinned. As the Professor turned his attention away again, Theo felt his eyes wander back to Potter, who was squirming visibly. He leaned over to Draco and whispered: “How long does the effect of the potion even last?”

“No idea. But the recipe said it was very potent”, Draco said, smug.

Theo quickly leaned back as the Professor looked over to them again, by now a little annoyed at their constant bickering.

“This is bad!”, Theo whispered.

Draco didn't answer, he was to intent on gloating over Potter. Potter was sitting very upright, his legs crossed and firmly pressed together, and just now he had raised a shaking hand again.

“Yes, Harry?”, Professor Lupin said.

“May I please be excused to go to the loo, Professor?”

The class chuckled.

“It's only five more minutes, Harry. I'm sure you can-”

“I can't! Honestly! Please, Professor! I must be ill. I've had to go all the time all day. I really can't! It's an emergency!”

Potter was literally shaking in his chair, his desperation was so obvious, Professor Lupin allowed him to go. Followed by the laughter of his classmates, Potter ran out. “Don't go potty in your pants again, Potter!”, Draco called after him accompanied by the other Slytherin students' chanting of “Potty Potter!”. Theo looked after Potter as well, but he didn't laugh. He felt almost bad for how much he was turned on right then. The Weasel seemed a bit anxious, too. He probably had to piss just as bad, but was too ashamed to ask.

By the time the lesson ended, Theo was sure of it. Weasley had all his things packed way before the school bell rand and was about to run out the second Professor Lupin released them for the day. The Professor stopped him: “Ron, a moment please!”

Weasley groaned audibly, but he obediently approached the teacher's desk, surreptitiously crossing his legs as he stood there. Draco grinned evilly at his predicament and Theo couldn't stop staring.

Then Professor Lupin said: “Draco, Theo, would you please stay behind a moment as well?”

Theo's heart dropped. He gave Draco a worried glance, but Draco seemed more annoyed than really concerned. His lips were still curled up in that smug grin of his. The Professor took Weasley aside and asked him if Potter was alright. Weasley, fidgeting, told him that both he and Potter constantly had had to pee all day despite going like twenty times already. Just then Potter returned. He apologized to his teacher, then he looked at the group, confused. Professor Lupin reassured him that it was alright, and told him to collect his things.

“I better get you to the Hospital Wing to have you checked out by Madam Pomfrey”, Professor Lupin thought aloud.

“May I please be excused before that?”, the Weasel desperately whined. He had one hand pressed to his crotch and was all but jumping in place.

“Of cause”, Professor Lupin said, finally realizing the boy's plight.

Weasley hurriedly ran off to the loo and Draco laughed. The Professor suddenly turned to him and Theo. “Is there anything you two want to tell me? Draco? Theo?”

He peered at them both. Draco's grin faded away and Theo swallowed, trying to avoid his teacher's stare. Expelled! They were so getting expelled! He eyed Draco in search for help.

“About what?”, Draco asked, innocent.

“Do you know anything about the cause of this strange affliction that is troubling Ron and Harry?”, Professor Lupin suggested.

Theo felt himself go ashen.

“No”, Draco said, deadpan.

“Theodore?”, the Professor asked.

Theo hurriedly shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“No? Well, maybe we should go talk to your head of house then.”

They waited for Weasley to return, then Professor Lupin led them down to the castle dungeons. They stopped at the door to Professor Snape's office, and Professor Lupin knocked.

“Yes?”, Professor Snape's voice answered.

Lupin opened the door and beckoned his four charges in before he followed them and closed the door behind himself. Professor Snape was sitting behind his desk and looked up as they entered. He seemed even more in a foul mood than usual.

“Professor Lupin”, he said icily, “what is the reason for this intrusion?”

“There has been some incident...”, Professor Lupin began. He went over to his colleague and whispered to him. Professor Snape nodded occasionally while he listened, his brows narrowed and his piercing gaze slowly wandered over his four students. “I already noticed”, he said, sneering at Potter and Weasley. Then his darkening stare returned to Draco first, before his eyes turned to Theo. When the Professor looked at him like that, Theo always felt like the man could see right into his mind. He quickly looked down to avoid those scary eyes, though he knew his guilt was written all over his face. Finally, the Professor turned to examine Potter and Weasley again. Had his face been angry as he stared at Draco and Theo, he looked outright appalled at the sight of the two Gryffindors.

“...and since they're from your house, I thought I would leave them with you”, Professor Lupin finished.

Professor Snape nodded slowly and rose from his chair. “Yes. Leave them with me.”

 

* * *

 

Professor Snape slowly went over to his students and just stared down on them. He was fully aware of the effect his gaze had on his students. Snape didn't even have to use Legilimency to see Nott was guilty of something. Malfoy looked awfully worried, too. Potter and Weasley... well, when were those two delinquents ever not up to something bad?

Lupin had told him what he had overheard. For a second, Snape's eyes wandered over to his colleague and his lips curled up in a sneer. The man sure had the ears of a wolf! He returned his attention to the boys, he remembered how much Malfoy had gloated at Potter and Weasley's shameful display earlier this afternoon. And then there was the theft from his personal stock of ingredients... Just when Malfoy and Nott happened to be there, unattended. Snape just hadn't figured out what possible use the two would have had for Aconite. Till now. Wasn't there a diuretic potion in 'Moste Potente Potions' that used Aconite?

He asked: “Did you two young gentlemen notice anything odd about Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley today?”

Malfoy chuckled and exchanged a silent glance with Nott.

“Mr. Nott!”, Snape watched with some satisfaction as the boy visibly winced at the sound of his name, “what might someone need Wolfsbane for?”

Lupin rose an eyebrow, and looked at Snape worriedly. Snape pretended he didn't notice.

“I-I-I don't know, P-professor? I-isn't it a poison?”, Nott stammered.

“Mr. Malfoy?”, Snape shot.

“No idea, Sir”, Malfoy said.

“Professor Snape?”, Potter interrupted.

“Not now, Potter!”, Snape hissed, “Mr. Malfoy, you recently read 'Moste Potente Potions' at my suggestion, did you not?”

“Yes, Professor?”, Malfoy agreed, cautious.

“There weren't any potions in that book that needed Aconite?”

“I don't recall, Professor.”

“Professor!”, Potter cut in again. Snape shot him an annoyed glance. Of cause Potter and Weasley had to horse around, those damn delinquents couldn't remain silent for even a minute! Snape ignored them.

“Maybe something that could cause Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley's symptoms?”

“I don't know, Sir”, Malfoy insisted, though the boy had turned even paler than usual.

“So neither of you would happen to know who might have stolen some Aconite from my personal stock?”

Snape didn't miss the panicked glance Nott shot Malfoy.

“No, Sir”, Malfoy said.

Snape sighed.

“Professor Snape!”, Potter whined yet again.

“What?”, Snape snapped

“I... I... um...”, Potter stammered.

Snape stared at him angrily. The way the boy was fidgeting and holding his groin made his predicament quite obvious even without words. If Snape needed any more proof, there he had it. Snape's lips curled up and turned his annoyed stare into a sneer. “Mr. Potter”, he asked, “do you happen to have to use the bathroom?”

“Yes, Sir”, Potter murmured, embarrassed.

“What was that, Mr. Potter?”, Snape enjoyed himself.

Potter squirmed. Blushing, he said: “I really have to use the bathroom, may I please be excused, Professor?”

Snape pretended to have to think about the question before he finally agreed: “Given the circumstances, you may.”

“Professor?”, Weasley urgently piped in, one hand pressed to his groin.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, you are both excused! We don't want another incident like earlier today”, Snape told them icily.

Malfoy laughed.

“Something funny, Mr. Malfoy?”, Snape inquired, turning his gaze back on his two Slytherin delinquents.

“No, Professor!”, Malfoy hurriedly assured him.

“I would hope not! Poisoning fellow students is no laughing matter, even if...”, Snape trailed off, pointedly eying the door Potter and Weasley had escaped through a moment ago, “you two brewed a dangerous potion without supervision, more so, you stole the Wolfsbane for it from my stock. And you deliberately poisoned two other students, knowing fully well of the dangers! Do you deny any of this?”

The two exchanged a glance, then they looked back at the floor.

“ I am truly disappointed with both of you! You are both outstanding students, I would have expected you to know better! I should have you both expelled! Fifty points from Slytherin for each of you! You'll both serve detention starting tomorrow evening, I'll also write letters to your parents-”

Malfoy had been staring at Nott and been poking him with his elbow. Since Nott had remained silent, Malfoy now spoke up himself: “Professor, Theo had nothing to do with it. I... I did it alone! He didn't know what I was doing.”

“Is that so?”, Snape asked. He was pretty sure the boy had at least covered for his friend, though it wasn't at all like Malfoy to take all the blame himself. Nott looked like he wanted to say something, but Malfoy stopped him.

“Alright”, Snape decided, “Mr. Malfoy, you will serve detention alone then.”

“Yes, Sir”, Malfoy answered silently.

“You are both dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The boys turned to leave. At the door, Malfoy peered back at Snape. “Professor? About my parents...”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. It's a serious offense. I have to inform them.”

“Please, I'll serve double detention! Just don't tell my dad!”

The boy looked genuinely scared. Snape remembered Lucius' last visit all too well, too.

“I'm sorry”, he repeated, “I have to write to your mother.”

Malfoy nodded sadly. “I understand”, he eyed Snape shyly, “thank you, Sir!” Then he quickly slipped out of the door.


	19. Tuesday, November 16th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates as of late. I'm dealing with depression and for the past months I just didn't get any writing done. For now, I'm back on this story.  
> My apologies again, I will try to return to somewhat regular updates, but I can't promise anything.

In the evening, Draco went down to Professor Snape's office to report for his detention. Theo had insisted on accompanying him there, all the way he was clenching his wand in his hand, he looked awfully worried. He probably feared Draco's dad might be with Professor Snape again – Draco himself half expected his dad to be waiting for him. But when he opened the door, the Professor was alone in his office, sitting behind his desk. He beckoned Draco in.

Theo mistrustfully peered into the office like he expected Draco's dad to jump out from behind an armchair any second. He eyed Draco questioningly and Draco told him: “See you tonight!” It felt kind of nice to see Theo so concerned for him, but Theo was only going to get them both into even bigger trouble if he didn't lower the wand soon he was still pointing in the general direction of Professor Snape and leave. “Go!”, Draco silently mouthed at him. Theo slowly nodded and finally turned around to walk back in the direction of their dorms. Draco looked after him a moment, then he entered the office and closed the door behind himself.

Professor Snape didn't offer him a seat, so Draco stood in front of his desk.

“You're late, Mr. Malfoy”, the Professor declared.

Draco had come down here right after dinner, besides the Professor hadn't even told him a specific time, but he knew it was no use arguing. Professor Snape was really angry with him, he had already let him feel that in Potions this afternoon. He hadn't even told Draco yet how many hours of detention he intended to give him – or if Draco would ever get off detention again, for that matter. For just a tiny bit of well-deserved revenge – and Potter and the Weasel had both done worse to him and gone unpunished – but everybody acted like Draco had tried to kill them. He had hoped at least Professor Snape would see his side, but no, not when it was about precious Potter, in the end everybody always sided with stupid Potter! Draco felt like screaming.

Instead, he muttered: “Sorry, Sir. It won't happen again.”

Professor Snape eyed him gloomily and rose from his chair. “Your mother asked me to give this to you, Mr. Malfoy”, he said and held out a red envelope to Draco.

Draco took it with shaky hands and examined it from all sides, timidly looked up to Professor Snape, then back down to the envelope, which was getting hotter in his hands every passing second and by now had started to smoke on the edges. A howler. His parents never had send him a howler before.

“Do open it”, the Professor suggested.

Draco hesitantly broke the seal and immediately the letter exploded in his mother's voice:

“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! I RECEIVED THE LETTER FROM SEVERUS LAST NIGHT, POISONING ANOTHER STUDENT, I AM SURPRISED YOU DIDN'T GET EXPELLED ...”,

its yells made the jars on the shelf on the back wall rattle and shook dust from the ceiling,

“... I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO TELL YOUR FAHTER, HE WILL DIE OF SHAME. JUST YOU WAIT TILL YOU GET HOME! YOU CAN'T BE SEEN AS A PUBLIC ENEMY OF POTTER, YOU KNOW THAT ...”,

his mother continued. Clattering, one of the jars fell to the floor,

“... AND SUCH JUVENILE PRANKS, YOU AREN'T A CHILD ANYMORE, I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED. THIS CHILDISH FEUD ENDS NOW. YOU WILL APOLOGIZE TO POTTER.”

The letter fell silent, burst into flames and fell to the ground in a cloud of ashes. Draco could still hear his mother's voice ringing in his ears. He awkwardly eyed the Professor.

“I trust you will do as your mother told you”, Professor Snape said. His voice sounded strangely dull in the sudden quiet.

Draco nodded silently. At least his mom had spared him the humiliation of receiving the howler in front of the whole school during breakfast – even though he was sure she hadn't done so out of consideration for him but out of shame.

“Good. Now, for your assignment today, if you would follow me to the potions classroom”, Professor Snape said and led the way.

As he entered through the door, the Professor pointed out a bunch of large cauldrons that sat by the sinks.

“Those cauldrons over there need urgent cleaning. Do take special care with those two, dried dragon dung fertilizer is especially nasty to get rid off. You'll find a bucket, wire sponge and everything else you need by the sinks. Your wand, please!”

Professor Snape held out his hand for the wand and Draco resignedly handed it over. With magic he probably would have cleaned all of the cauldrons within five minutes. By hand, it would take him hours and he would scrub his fingers bloody.

Draco went over to fill the bucket with water and began his work. He pushed over the first stinky cauldron – even petrified the dragon dung still gave off a foul odour – and crawled inside to try and attack the burned mess with the wire sponge.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape put Draco's wand on the teacher's desk, sat down in the chair behind the desk and opened some old grimoire. He didn't pay much attention to Draco as he read in silence, but that was fine with Draco.

Apologize to Potter! If only he had killed that twat for real! Then at least he wouldn't have to apologize to him. Draco clenched the wire sponge so hard, it cut into his skin.

It took him almost an hour to scrape the worst of the dragon dung fertilizer deposits off the first cauldron. He rinsed it and drained it into the sink. At the sight of the rushing water, his bladder gave him a gentle nudge, reminding him that he should have taken a detour to the loo after dinner. But it wasn't major and he ignored it.

He put the cauldron on its side again and filled the bucket with fresh water. Then he crawled back inside to attack the remaining residue with soap and a normal sponge. The soap almost made the stench of the fertilizer residue worse and Draco feared he would never get it out of his clothes again. Or out of his hair! Dragondung! He was kneeling in in that mix of unmentionables, the lower part of his trousers were soaked in it! He considered burning that pair of trousers. What was worse, the wetness made him cold and that always made him have to pee. Now that he was aware of his need, his thoughts kept on returning to it.

Finally, the cauldron was all cleaned up – or rather as clean as it would get – and Draco crawled out. His bladder gave him an unhappy twinge when he got up and for a second he had to cross his legs. Then the urge subsided again and he quickly rolled the cauldron over to the sink to rinse it one last time. He nervously stepped from one foot to the other while he watched the flowing water.

He was just about to turn to the second cauldron, when the Professor looked up from his book. “Don't forget to clean off the soot on the outside, I want them polished shining!”

“Yes, Sir”, Draco pressed forth between clenched teeth. He eyed the clock, it had taken him almost two hours to clean just the inside and his hands were killing him. But obediently, he returned to the first cauldron to scrub the outside as well.

The grime clung to the cauldron almost worse than the fertilizer. Draco scratched at it for half an hour before he even started to see metal shine through from under the soot. By the time he was done, he could barely feel his fingers anymore. His bladder, on the other hand, now was constantly on his mind. He crossed his legs again and eyed the clock. The Professor would probably keep him here for at least two more hours! For a second, he considered asking for a bathroom break.

“Professor-”, he began.

“I said shining, Mr. Malfoy!”, Professor Snape cut him off without even looking up from his book.

Draco bit his lips. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir”, he muttered through clenched teeth.

Draco threw down the wire sponge in silent anger and got some clean water and a cloth. Then he started to polish the sodding cauldron, only pausing to give himself a quick squeeze from time to time when an especially bad spasm hit his bladder.

After another twenty minutes, Draco was rewarded by the view of his own reflection in the cauldron. It probably hadn't been that shiny since the day it had been bought.

“Professor?”

“Well, do go on! There are plenty more cauldrons.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco obediently turned over the second cauldron. When he got down to his knees, he almost lost a squirt into his pants, he gasped and pressed his legs together with all his might. After a moment, he regained control of his protesting bladder and he deemed it save to move again. His legs securely pressed together, he started to scrape away at the petrified dragon dung fertilizer residue.

He worked as fast as he could. His overstretched bladder was throbbing with every movement and, worse, Draco felt his muscles tiring.

It was so bad, he had to turn off the water and pause while he was rinsing out the cauldron. He desperately crossed his legs.

“Professor Snape!”, he whined.

“What, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape eyed him, half annoyed, half bored.

It took Draco all his willpower to keep from jumping in place or holding himself.

“May I please be excused for a bathroom break?”

“Mr. Malfoy, did you by any chance ingest some of your potion yourself?”

“No”, Draco said sheepishly, still trying desperately not to look desperate.

The Professor looked at the clock. “Detention is over in half an hour”, he informed Draco, “certainly, a boy your age can wait that long.”

Draco bit his lips. He doubted it, but he was too proud to ask again. Instead, he firmly crossed his legs and finished rinsing out the cauldron. Then he got new soap water and crawled back into the cauldron to continue his work. His bladder was spasming madly and he had to pause every few seconds now to hold himself. At least the cauldron hid his pitiful display from Professor Snape's view. Draco's vision got blurry from the tears that welled up in his eyes. At an especially bad stab, he felt a small trickle escape into his briefs.

Draco knew he was at his limit and he was about to undo his pants and relieve himself in the bucket, when the Professor said: “Put away your cleaning utils come over here! You can continue tomorrow.”

Draco quickly put his belt back on and jumped up. “Yes, Sir!”

He felt he dampened his briefs some more as he quickly emptied the bucket in the sink. He ran over to the storeroom and just threw the cleaning stuff into a corner. Then he got back to the Professor and nervously started to march in place in front of his desk. “All done, Sir! May I be relieved now?”

“You may. Same time tomorrow. And don't be late again!”

“Yes, Sir, won't happen again!, Good night, Sir!”, Draco agreed and spun around. Another squirt of piss escaped him.

“Don't forget your wand!”, the Professor called him back.

Draco just wordlessly snatched up the wand from the desk and ran out, with every step loosing another squirt. He barely made it onto the corridor and threw the door shut behind himself, then he just let go. He was only a few short steps away from the bathroom, but he didn't care. He just couldn't bear it anymore. Draco sobbed in relief and frustration as the hot piss seeped through his pants and started to pool around his shoes. It felt so good to finally let it all out! He pissed and pissed, he couldn't believe that his bladder had been able to hold that much pee.

When he was finally done, he just stood there for a moment, his eyes closed, and relished in the dull, empty feeling in his lower abdomen that had replaced the pain. The sound of steps from inside the classroom pulled him back into reality and Draco remembered where he was. He realized, the Professor might come out or someone else might run into him any second. He quickly dried his tears with his sleeve, then he got out his wand and cast a cleaning charm on himself and vanished the huge puddle on the floor.

When he heard the creak of the door handle behind him, Draco just ran and he didn't stop or look back until he had reached the Slytherin Dormitories.

 

* * *

 

Theo was in his pajamas, laying on his bed and reading a book. Crabbe and Goyle were already sleeping, snoring peacefully, but Theo was waiting for Draco to return from his detention. Professor Snape was holding him really long. He looked up when Draco burst into the room.

“Hey, you survived!”, Theo grinned, “welcome back!”

Draco hardly looked at him. He just ripped off his clothes and crammed them all into the laundry basket, then he turned around and wordlessly walked back out.

Theo looked after him a bit worried. He knew he shouldn't have let Draco go alone! He knew he shouldn't have let him take all the blame! He closed his book and got up to follow Draco.

He found him in the shower room. Draco was leaning on the wall under one of the showers and just let the water wash over him, his eyes closed and sobbing silently.

“You OK?”, Theo asked, insecure.

Draco didn't answer. Hesitantly, Theo sat down on a bench in the corner. He didn't know what to do, so he just watched Draco and waited. For a long while, Draco just stood there, then he slowly slid down on the wall and sat down on the floor, still crying.

Theo hesitantly got up, went over to Draco and turned off the shower.

“Come on, you'll get a cold!”, he whispered as he wrapped Draco in a towel and helped him dry off. He gently guided Draco over to the bench and sat down with him. Draco leaned heavily against him and Theo put his arm around his shoulders. At another time, Theo would have very much enjoyed the intimacy.

“Are you OK?”, he whispered.

“No”, Draco sniveled silently, “no, I'm not.”

Theo pressed him closer to himself and let him rest his head on his shoulder. They just sat there like that for a while. Theo tried not to look, but he was very aware of Draco's closeness... and his nakedness. That cute little bush of blonde hair that sprouted above Draco's boyhood...

The sound of the door pulled Theo out of his amorous thoughts. Draco had heard it, too. He quickly freed himself from Theo's embrace and moved a few inches away from him, just in time before Blaise entered the washroom. Theo felt a little sting in his chest that Draco still was so embarrassed about being seen with him.

He shot Blaise an angry look. Draco awkwardly eyed the intruder, too, but Blaise didn't pay them much attention. He groggily shuffled over to the urinal and pulled down his pajama pants to take a good, long piss.

Theo got a good sideways view on the action. When Blaise finished and turned back around, their eyes met and Theo realized that he had been staring. He blushed, but Blaise just grinned, readjusted the seat of his pants and winked at him. Then he walked back out.

“Your stiffie is kinda visible through your pajamas”, Draco whispered silently when they were alone.

Theo turned to face Draco and inched closer again, his look slowly wandering down to Draco's member. But Draco awkwardly covered his nether regions with his towel and moved away. For him the moment obviously was over and he wasn't in the mood.

Theo blushed some more, he looked down at the tent in his own pants. “Sorry”, he said, sad.


	20. Wednesday, November 24th

Harry was on his way down from the Library to the Great Hall for dinner when Evan ran into him. The small boy staggered back and looked up at Harry.

“Sorry, Sir, Mr. Potter! I'm really sorry! I-”, he stammered.

Harry knew Evan because a few weeks ago the boy had asked him and his friends if he might sit with them for lunch. His classmates had been bullying him, he was small for his age and rather shy, and he didn't have many friends.

Harry smiled at him. “Hey, I told you to just call me Harry! What's the hurry?”, he looked Evan over, the boy stood a bit hunched down, so Harry added, worried, “are you OK? Did I hurt you?”

“Sorry, Harry, Sir! No, I mean yes, I mean I am OK. I-I was running from Peeves!”, Evan spluttered, “I was on my way to the loo after Charms class, but when I entered the bathroom on the third floor, Peeves was tinkering with the faucets and when he saw me he started screaming at me and I ran back out but he chased me! And-and he wouldn't leave me alone ever since! I have been running and hiding from him all afternoon, I think he finally gave up, but I-I don't think I was to this part of Hogwarts before. Please, Harry, you have to help me! I am lost and there was no one I knew before I ran into you and I was still afraid of Peeves and-and I really have to peeee!” He ended whiningly.

Harry eyed the boy. Evan was holding himself with both hands and he was desperately crossing his legs. It was obvious he was bursting, Harry had to think fast. They were quite close to the Great Hall, but the way Evan acted, Harry doubted Evan could wait that long. Besides, Harry still remembered all too well how Malfoy had given him a diuretic potion and he had ended up wetting his pants in front of his entire class. The Corridors around the Great Hall would be crowded so close to dinnertime. Harry really didn't want to put Evan through the same humiliation in case the boy didn't make it. The closest bathroom was Myrtle's. Well, it would be deserted for sure at least.

“There's a bathroom on this floor”, Harry said, “it isn't far, just down the hallway.”

Evan groaned silently as he looked down the long corridor, but he nodded. Harry offered him a hand and Evan took it, his other hand still pressed firmly to his groin. Harry started in the direction he had indicated, Evan shuffling after him as fast as he could with his legs firmly pressed together.

Somehow, Harry managed to get Evan to the lavatory in time, but instead of running in Evan suddenly stopped in front of the door.

“What's the matter?”, Harry asked and tried to urge Evan in, but Evan just stood there and looked up at the sign.

“We can't go in there!”, he whined, “that's a girls' toilet!”

Evan panicky looked around for a boys' room, but there wasn't one by Myrtle's bathroom. He was almost in tears.

“It's alright!”, Harry quickly told him, “this bathroom is Moaning Myrtle's place. No one's ever using it because she is haunting it.”

Evan still hesitated, plus now he looked positively scared. He was jumping in place so desperate and pitiable.

Harry took his hand again and pushed the door open. “Come on! See, there is no one here but us!”

He dragged Evan inside and force-walked him to the first toilet stall. Evan looked around, scared, like he expected Myrtle and Peeved both to come floating through the walls screaming at them any second. Harry gave him a push and Evan staggered into the stall, then Harry quickly pulled the door close from the outside.

For a few moments, there was silence and Harry got a second to look around and wonder where Myrtle might be. Not that he wasn't happy she seemed out at the moment. The girl ghost was terminally lonely and she had kind of taken a fancy to him the last year, even though Harry had just spoken a few words with her because he hadn't wanted to be rude. He kind of had tried to avoid her ever since, Myrtle didn't take rejection well.

“Harry! Help!”, Evan sniveled desperately.

Harry pushed the stall door open, fearing Myrtle might have popped up her head from the loo and scared Evan or something alike, but it was just Evan alone. He haltingly shuffled around to turn to Harry. “I can't get my belt undone!”, he whined, “I'm gonna pee my pants!” He desperately tore at the buckle with one hand while he pressed the other to his groin.

Harry sighed. He quickly stepped into the cubicle and knelt down in front of Evan. “Come on, I'll help you!” He had to slap Evans hands away to get at the belt. The buckle really was a bit tight and Evan was squirming and fidgeting so much, Harry had a hard time getting a grip on it. He barked at Evan: “Will you stand still for a second?”

“It's gonna leak!”, Evan cried, but he crossed his legs and obediently managed to stop jumping for almost a second. Harry finally got the belt unbuckled and he quickly opened it. Evan panicky reached for his trouser button, but had trouble with that as well. Harry pushed his hands away again and undid his pants for Evan. He pulled down Evan's trousers and his briefs – which had a tiny yellow spot in the front – down in one go.

Harry was almost rewarded for his good deed by being showered in pee, for Evan was at his limits. Just as Harry pulled down the pants, a shiver ran through the boy and he took in a sharp breath as he unleashed the flood. Harry managed to grab Evan and turn him away in the brink of time. Evan released a huge stream of piss all over the wall and floor of the cubicle before Harry could properly aim him at the toilet.

Just then he heard a giggle behind his back and he turned around. Myrtle was floating half through the floor and watching them.

“Oh, hello Harry! I was just returning from peeking at the boys in the prefect's bathroom when I saw you. That is kind of cute...”, Myrtle said.

Evan was looking over his shoulder, shocked. Staring at the GIRL ghost that was watching him pee messed up his aim, and he pissed all over the seat.

“Hey, watch what you're doing! I live here!”, Myrtle screeched.

Evan panicked even more and tried to stop himself from peeing and to cover his boyhood all at once, but his bladder just wouldn't stop relieving itself now that he had started.

“Give Evan some privacy, Myrtle!”, Harry said.

“Boys are not allowed in here, technically”, Myrtle insisted, sounding a bit miffed. She floated around them to get a better front view of Evan, who was blushing profoundly, but still failing to stop himself from pissing, “your little friend is kind of cute, though.”

“Myrtle!”, Harry told her off.

“I'd let you use my bathroom every day, Harry”, Myrtle purred with a suggestive look down Harry's trousers, then her mood suddenly turned sour again, “but you haven't visited me in months! I bet you hung out with that ugly girl, Hermione!”

Harry had the good sense not to answer.

Meanwhile, Evan had finally finished and, looking haunted, pulled up his pants. Pressed against the cubicle wall opposite to the floating ghost, he inched towards the door.

Myrtle shrieked: “Hey! You gonna leave your mess?”

She dived into the toilet next door, and rushed through the plumbing, screaming.

“N-no! O-of cause not!”, Evan croaked and panicky ripped off some toilet paper to mop up the spilled pee. Harry helped him. Myrtle calmed down a bit and poked her head out of the floor again to watch them with a stern face. They quickly finished with the floor and Evan even wiped away the splashes on the wall.

“Flush!”, Harry whispered to him, as Evan threw the last bit of paper in the toilet and turned to leave again. Evan eyed Myrtle – she didn't look happy – and hurriedly followed Harry's suggestion. Then he turned around again.

“Put down the lid!”, Myrtle screeched.

Evan sheepishly did that as well, then Myrtle finally allowed him to flee the stall.

“Boys!”, Myrtle mumbled to herself.

Evan quickly joined Harry at the sink and washed his hands, Harry said goodbye to Myrtle, and they both escaped out onto the corridor. Once they were safely away from Myrtle and her bathroom, Evan turned to Harry. “Thank you, Mr. Potter... Harry! I'm sorry for...”, he trailed off, embarrassed.

Harry smiled at him, warmly. “Don't worry! Let's go get us some dinner, shall we? Want to sit with me and my friends again today?”

Evan smiled back at him and nodded shyly. Harry walked ahead to show him the way and Evan happily fell in besides him.


	21. Thursday, December 2nd

Theo and Draco had just had lunch and were on their way to their potions classroom together. Professor Snape had finally let Draco off detention the previous day after two endless weeks of scrubbing cauldrons and cleaning up flobberworm mucus. Draco already seemed in a way better mood than before.

“Remember when I invited you for Christmas?”, Theo seized the opportunity, “You still wanna come?”

He eyed Draco nervously.

To his relief, Draco smiled: “That would be swell!”

“Asked your parents yet?”

Draco shook his head. “They're still angry with me.”

“Still that bad?”

Draco shrugged. “I don't know. I might be grounded for the holidays.”

“Maybe you should apologize to Potter like your mom said”, Theo suggested silently.

“Hell no!”

“Just pretend!”, Theo begged, “I don't want Potter to ruin our Christmas!”

Draco stared at him gloomily and Theo fell silent as well.

When they passed a bathroom, he stopped.

“I gotta take a piss!”, he announced.

Draco eyed him queasily. “I'll wait for you.”

“Why don't you go to the loo as well?”, Theo suggested.

“I don't have to go!”, Draco muttered.

But Theo wouldn't have any of that, he grabbed Draco by his sleeve and gently tugged at it. “Come on, at least try! Or you wanna have to go in class again?”

Draco still felt embarrassed by how unashamed Theo was about bathroom matters, but embarrassing as it was, Draco also was thankful that Theo had made it a habit to look after him like that. He took a hesitant look around to make sure no one was watching, then he followed Theo inside.

Theo walked straight up to the row of urinals and quickly got out his member to take care of his business. Draco awkwardly looked away and slowly made his way over to the toilet stalls.

“By the way, you got that potions essay done?”, Theo asked just as Draco was about to enter the first cubicle. Draco stopped and blushed. He really wasn't comfortable doing small-talk while going to the loo.

“N-no, I just started”, he replied.

“Cool, wanna work on it together tonight?”, Theo asked as he shook off the last drops. He turned around and saw that Draco was still standing in the middle of the room. “Well, hurry up already!”

“I really don't have to go!”, Draco quickly said and turned to leave.

Theo's brows narrowed disapprovingly. “At least try!”, he said, talking to Draco like he was a little kid.

Draco blushed again, but he hesitantly turned back to enter the toilet stall.

A small voice from the next cubicle stopped him: “M-Mr. Malfoy? Draco? H-help!”

Draco's face turned ashen. He was mortified there was someone else in there with them who overheard their embarrassing conversation. He demanded: “Who's there?”

“Evan, Mr. Malfoy, Sir”, the timid voice answered.

Draco heard the lock turn, then the cubicle door opened a crack and a young boy showed his scared face. When he saw the little pest's features, recognition dawned on Draco. That Mudblood Gryffindor kid! Apparently, he had been crying again, his eyes looked puffy and there were fresh tears on his cheeks.

Draco groaned inwardly, but he put up a friendly smile and crouched down in front of Evan. “Evan, what happened? Why are you hiding in here?”

Evan's timid eyes darted over to Theo.

“That's Theodore, he's a friend”, Draco assured him.

Instead of an answer, Evan hesitantly pulled the door fully open, revealing his wet pants and the big puddle in front of the toilet.

“You had another accident?”, Draco asked softly.

Evan nodded, sad.

“Well, that's alright! Those things happen”, Draco comforted him. He got out his wand. “Come on, step outside and let me spell you clean!”

Evan warily eyed Theo, but when Theo smiled at him as well, and reassured him that it was OK, he hesitantly stepped forward as Draco had told him.

Draco raised his wand and said the incantations of a cleaning charm. It ran down Evan's pants, vanishing all traces of wetness.

Just at that moment, Potter barged into the room. He stopped right in his tracks and stared at Draco and Evan. Draco was still pointing his wand at the younger boy and the tears on Evan's face were plain visible. Potter didn't bother to ask what was going on, he immediately drew his own wand.

Threatening, he demanded: “Get away from him, Malfoy!”

Draco turned around to face him and Theo, too, reached for his wand.

“This is none of your business, Potter! Get out!”, Draco spat.

“Oh, yes, it is! Evan, come over here! What did they do to you?”

Evan had silently watched their exchange in growing fear. Now he stepped in front of Draco and, though his voice trembled, he yelled: “No, Harry, it's not what-”

“We were just teaching the brat a lesson!”, Draco cut him off. He put a heavy hand on Evan's shoulder and silently hissed into his ear: “Not a word! Owl food, remember?”

Then he gave Evan a sudden shove and the boy staggered forward in Potter's direction. “Off you go! And you better remember that lesson!”, Draco called after him.

Evan looked back at him, scared, then he turned around and made a run for the exit, but Potter caught him at the arm. “Evan, what did they do?”, he demanded.

“Let go!”, Evan whined, “let go of me!”

Potter hesitantly released him and Evan ran out. Potter didn't think of lowering his wand, though. He angrily eyed Draco and Theo, who both in turn were pointing their wands at him.

Draco stepped forward, but Theo shot him a pleading look. Draco hesitated.

“It's two against one, Potter”, Theo suggested urgently, “how about we all lower our wands, and the two of us get out and leave you to do what you came in here for?”

Potter measured Draco a moment longer, and Draco returned his hateful stare with one of pure contempt. He almost hoped Potter would try something stupid, but finally Potter gave in: “Sure.”

Very slowly they all lowered their wands. Without turning their back on Potter, Draco and Theo went over to the exit, and, eying them warily, Potter stepped aside to let them pass. None of them let go of their wands before the door had closed between them.


	22. Saturday, December 4th

Theo waited until Crabbe and Goyle had left for breakfast, then he quickly got up and ran over to the door. He looked after the two to make sure they were gone for real, then he hastily closed the door and put a ward on it. The lock audibly clicked. With a mischievous grin, Theo spun around to Draco, who was still lying in his bed, sleeping like a baby. Theo silently shed his pajamas and went over to crouch down besides him. He whispered: “Good morning, sleepyhead!”, and pressed a kiss on Draco's cheek.

Draco's eyes fluttered open. “Hrmm...?”, he mumbled, still half asleep, and smiled, “Theo? ...morning!” Then shocked realization crept on his face and he pushed Theo away.

“Good morning!”, Theo repeated with an even wider smile.

Draco panicky looked around for Crabbe and Goyle, but when he saw that he was alone with Theo, he relaxed again. Theo bend over to press another kiss on Draco's lips, this time Draco didn't shove him away but eagerly kissed him back.

After a short eternity, their lips parted again. Theo whispered: “Feeling better today then?”

Draco smiled at him and nodded: “Yeah.”

He took another look around to make sure no one was watching and reached for his wand like usual, but Theo stopped him.

“Ah, no, no, no!”, he grinned evilly.

“But-”, Draco said. Embarrassed, he took a pointed look down at his crotch.

Theo lifted up Draco's blanket to examine the wetness. With a smile, he raised it even higher and tried to climb into bed with Draco.

“No! Stop! What are you doing? What if Crabbe or Goyle see us?”, Draco panicked. Just now he realized that Theo was butt naked. Draco's startled eyes focused on Theo's member, which was proudly pointing up with more than just the beginning of an erection.

“They're at breakfast, they won't get back for at least an hour”, Theo cooed.

“But what if they do?”, Draco insisted, “what if someone else walks in on us?”

“I warded the door”, Theo whispered and despite Draco's resistance crawled under the blanket.

“But-, but-”, Draco stammered, “it's all wet, you'll get my pee all over you!”

Theo snug up close to him, he could feel the clammy wetness of Draco's pajamas between them. It instantly made him even harder. “You really think I'll mind?”, he breathed into Draco's ear.

Draco blushed.

Theo climbed atop of him and pulled down Draco's pants while his other hand wandered over Draco's chest. Draco was already having an erection, too! Naughty boy! Theo's grin widened, he whispered: “Now who's desperate for some attention? You totally have a stiffie, too!”

Draco turned completely red and looked away. “I just have to pee, that's all”, he mumbled, avoiding Theo's eyes. He was so cute when he was embarrassed!

Theo started to grind against him, their members were touching, rubbing against each other. Draco moaned silently. Theo could feel the moisture on Draco's skin, he felt it on himself as well. Then Theo reached down and took them both in his hand. Draco gasped, but he didn't resist. Slowly, Theo started jerking them together. With his other hand, he caressed Draco's stomach and chest and tried to spread the wetness even further. He playfully twisted Draco's nipple, Draco moaned and squirmed under him, the liar was so enjoying himself!

Draco forced a kiss on him. He felt Draco's hands on his back, caressing him, felt how they made their way down to his butt, fondled his hips. Suddenly, Draco grabbed both Theo's buttocks and started thrusting against him. Theo broke their kiss and gasped in surprise, but he quickly adjusted his rhythm to Draco's movements. Draco's breath came in laboured bursts, Theo was panting, too. He started to move his hips as well, his dick was throbbing so madly, he was so close. He closed his eyes.

“Wait!”, Draco moaned, “I'm... almost there... too!”

“I can't!” Theo gasped.

He tried to hang in there, but he just couldn't. He shivered. Then, with another gasp he spilled himself between them. As the sensation of the orgasm rushed over him, Theo stopped moving and for a moment only Draco continued to thrust against him. Then Theo grabbed Draco's dick again and a few strokes later, Draco, too, reared up and violently released his seed.

They both collapsed on top of each other, exhaustedly, panting madly, a new, hot stickiness between them.

After they had finally caught their breath, they shared another long kiss. Then Theo rolled off of Draco and snug up to his side, taking in the clammy wetness of the fabric around them. Draco put his arm around his shoulders.

“About the sleepover”, Draco murmured.

For a second, Theo stopped caressing Draco's chest and worriedly looked him in the eyes. He was still afraid that Draco would say no.

“Yeah?”, he asked, nervously.

“Wrote the letter asking my parents yesterday”, Draco whispered.

“Did they say yes?”, Theo burst out.

“Didn't even send it yet. I'll do it first thing after breakfast today”, Draco gleefully teased and nibbled at Theo's ear.

Theo squealed and tried to wiggle away from Draco. Draco grinned even more and pinned him down to force him into another kiss and Theo eagerly returned it. He put his arms around Draco to try and pull him back into a close embrace, but after a moment, Draco broke the kiss and moved away.

“Hey, let's cuddle some more!”, Theo protested.

“I honestly have to pee”, Draco complained and sat up.

“Good!”, Theo grinned and reached for him to pull him back under the blanket.

Draco brushed off his hand. He said: “Someone will catch us!”

“No one can get in”, Theo reminded him.

“They'll wonder why we locked ourselves in and they'll put two and two together!”

Draco stood up, snatched up his wand and cast a cleaning spell on his pajamas. He turned to do the same with the bed.

“I'll take care of that!”, Theo quickly stopped him.

Draco eyed him skeptically, but with a shrug he put the wand back down. Theo drew up the blanket and poutingly watched Draco as he first took off his pajamas, stuffed them in the laundry basket and then made his way over to the door. Once there, Draco turned back to him.

“Well, hurry up already!”, he demanded.

“Yeah, yeah”, Theo complained. Without getting up from bed, he reached for Draco's wand and pointed it at the door. He murmured the counter-spell and the door clicked open.

“You take care of you-know-what?”, Draco asked and queasily eyed his bed,”You coming?”

“Yes! Yes! I'll be right behind you!”, Theo said, annoyed.

Draco gave him another dubious look, then he turned to the door. The second he was outside, Theo raised the wand again and said the incantation of the warding spell. The door swung shut with a loud thump and locked itself.

“Hey! What-”, he heard Draco's surprised voice from outside.

Theo ignored him. With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down. Finally, he was able to savour the wetness of Draco's bed in peace for a little while longer. He wiggled deeper under the blanket. The piss was all over him, he could feel its clamminess on his skin. If he inhaled deeply, he could even smell a hint of it. He shuffled around in the wetness some more until he came to lie on his back. He reached down to his member – it was already completely stiff again – and pointed it at his tummy. Then he tried to relax and force a small bit of pee out. It pooled on his stomach and started to run down on his sides. Theo reached for the hot wetness and rubbed it all over his chest. He moaned silently, then he lifted up the blanket with one hand and grabbed his stiffie with the other. He pointed it up some more, so the next gush of pee hit his chest. He continued to release small squirts of pee all over himself and slowly began to wank off again.

 

* * *

 

Draco jerked around sharply as he heard the door fall into its lock behind him.

“Hey! What-”, he exclaimed, but he couldn't help but grin. “Stupid prat!”, he silently cursed Theo.

With a silly smile on his face, he turned back around and went over to the washroom. It was quite late and most students probably were already at breakfast, so the bathroom was almost deserted. The only other boys inside were Blaise Zabini and two older kids. One of them was busy styling his hair in the mirror, while Blaise was chatting with the other near the showers. Draco awkwardly went past the three and quickly got to the toilet stalls.

“Morning, Draco!”, Blaise happily called, just as Draco was about to enter the cubicle furthest away.

All three looked over to him.

Draco blushed, muttered a “Hi, Blaise!”, hurriedly fled into the stall and closed the door behind himself.

Slowly, he turned towards the toilet. He could hear them chatting and laughing outside. Draco swallowed. A minute passed, but the three didn't leave. Then another minute. Draco started to squirm. He fucking had to pee! He silently ripped off a piece of toilet paper and carefully dropped it into the toilet to cover the water, so it would silence the splashing from his pee hitting the water. Then he took aim and tried to relax. They were still outside, he couldn't do it. Relax! He closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Relax! Just relax! A small trickle came out and hit the bowl, it was far too loud. Draco immediately cramped up again and the trickle stopped.

He panicky listened, expecting Blaise and the other to have fallen silent or to start laughing any second, but they just continued to chat about Quidditch. Draco sighed silently and, a tiny bit mollified, he concentrated again. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to force a few more drops out. This time, the dam broke and the trickle turned into a small stream. The toilet paper helped muffle the splashing, but it still sounded like thunder in Draco's ears. The guys outside just had to hear everything! When Draco finally, finally was done, his face burned red hot with embarrassment. He flushed and quickly got out.

He didn't make eye-contact with any of the three when he went past them to wash his hands and brush his teeth. While he was at it, Blaise and one of the older guys finally decided to leave. The remaining kid was still busily arranging his hair into long spikes, it kind of made him resemble a hedgehog. He probably thought it looked cool, not ridiculous. Draco quickly rinsed his mouth and ran over to the showers before he lost it and laughed out loud or the guy noticed him watching him.

Draco usually took his sweet time under the shower, he enjoyed the feeling of the hot water gently massaging his skin and the clean feeling it left him with afterwards. Today though, his rumbling tummy reminded him that he better hurry if he wanted to get to the Great Hall in time to still get some breakfast.

Despite his haste, he made sure to thoroughly wash his stomach and privates before he quickly rinsed off. The cleaning spell had already removed any visible stickiness, but it hadn't done anything to remove the dirty feeling down there. By the time Draco had toweled off, the hedgehog was gone. Draco dropped the towel and followed him outside.

When he tried the door to his room, it was still locked. Draco knocked.

“Open up!”, he whispered, “Theo, it's me, open the door!”

Inside, nothing moved.

“It's me, Draco, let me in!”, he demanded, louder.

Nothing. Draco tried the handle again and banged at the door.

“Merlin's pants! Theo, stop jerking off and open the fucking door!”, he shouted.

He kicked at the door, but it didn't even budge.

“Theodore Nott, you steaming pile of dragon shit, let me in immediately!”

“Problem?”, a voice behind him chuckled.

Draco jerked around. Blaise eyed him questioningly and casually leaned against the wall, an evil smile on his face.

“Theo locked me out of our dorm. That idiot probably thinks himself funny!”, Draco explained.

Blaise's eyes wandered down to Draco's boyhood, remained there just long enough to make Draco blush, then slowly back up to his face. He grinned: “It kinda is.”

“No, it's not!”, Draco snapped, annoyed.

“Yeah, it is!”, Blaise burst out laughing.

Draco stared at him angrily, but he swallowed his pride. Awkwardly, he asked: “Look, man, can I borrow some pants from you? And a shirt.”

Blaise snickered evilly. He took his sweet time pretending to think over the question, but in the end he took pity on Draco. Still grinning like a fool, he wordlessly motioned Draco to follow him and led him over to his room.

Blaise went over to the big, wooden chest at the foot of his bed and rummaged through it. After a moment, he produced a washed-out pair of jeans and a shirt. Generously, Blaise even added in some socks and an old pair of boxers. Draco awkwardly eyed them. Someone else's USED underwear.

“Thanks”, he murmured.

Blaise saw his reluctance. “You're not wearing my jeans going commando”, he told Draco.

Draco still hesitated. Unhappy, he examined the boxers. At least there were no pee stains – or worse – on them. None that he could see.

“They're fresh from the laundry, honest!”, Blaise said.

Draco suppressed a shudder as he slowly stepped into the pair of boxers and pulled them up. They felt uncomfortable and awkward, and Draco couldn't get the thought out of his head that Blaise had worn these before. It didn't help matters that Draco was used to briefs. The boxers were awfully loose around his hips and he could feel his junk dangle freely down his left leg.

When he put the borrowed jeans over them, he promptly and painfully pinched his nuts. His eyes watered, but he bit his lips and didn't utter a sound. He quickly eyed Blaise, luckily the other boy hadn't noticed. Draco swallowed a curse and adjusted the seat of his trousers into a more comfortable position. Stupid boxers! Why anyone would choose to wear boxers, let alone how they walked or sat in them was a mystery to him.

Finally, he was fully dressed and he carefully followed Blaise out to have breakfast. Blaise had hardly sat down before he, of cause, had to tell the whole table about Draco's little misadventure. At least everyone just assumed Theo had played a fun prank on him and no one suspected any worse. In the end, Draco even joined in on the laughter.

When he returned to their dormitories about half an hour later, the door to their room was open, Draco's bed was dry and neatly made, and there was no sign of Theo. Draco quickly ran in and changed into his own clothes. The boxers hadn't been as bad as he had first thought – except for the one time he had tried to cross his legs while sitting and almost castrated himself, that was. Still, he was relieved when he could put on a pair of his briefs again and he felt their familiar snug fit around his junk and the security they gave him.

When he had fully dressed, he folded up the borrowed clothes and went over to Blaise's room to return them. Blaise was sitting on his bed, reading. He looked up as Draco entered.

“Thanks again”, Draco said, still a bit embarrassed.

Blaise gave him a naughty grin and took all the clothes except for the pair of boxers back from him. “You're welcome! You... uh... can keep the boxers!”, he said awkwardly.

“No, thanks!”, Draco tried to push them on Blaise.

“No, honest, keep them!”, Blaise insisted.

He obviously had the same issues about someone else's used underwear as Draco. They uncomfortably eyed each other, but neither said it out loud. In the end, Draco gave in and kept the boxers, though he threw them in the trash immediately first thing he was back in his room.


	23. Monday, December 6th

Harry poked at his bowl of porridge without eating much, he wasn't in a good mood this morning. Professor McGonagall was going to take the names of those students who would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. Of course Harry would be one of them, he had no family to go home to. He sure wasn't going to go back to the Dursleys!

“It's only two weeks”, Hermione tried to comfort him.

She was going skiing with her parents.

“We'll have lots of fun together!”, Ron said, cheerful, with a mouth full of egg and bacon.

Harry gave them a weak smile before he looked back down on his porridge and resumed his aimless stirring. He knew Ron was only staying to keep him company, Ginny and his brothers were all going home to the Burrow over the holidays.

“You should celebrate Christmas with your family”, he said silently, “I know you want to. You don't have to stay just because of me.”

“Nonsense! I can't wait to be rid of Fred and George for a few days!”, Ron lied.

Harry eyed him sadly. “Honestly, I'll be OK”, he said, unconvincing.

“I told you I'm staying, so I am staying!”, Ron spluttered and showered Harry in bits of baked eggs, “you'll have to live with my company if you like it or not!”

They were interrupted by the fluttering of hundreds of owls that swooped into the Great Hall, delivering the morning post. With the exception of Hagrid or Ron and Hermione nobody ever wrote to Harry, so he was quite startled when suddenly a huge eagle owl plunged down right at him and dropped a letter in his lap.

Harry hesitantly picked it up and turned it around in his hands. The envelope was sealed with a kind of emblem that looked like a big, squiggly “M”. Above the strange seal, the words “to Mr. Harry Potter” were written in delicate script. Ron looked over curiously, his brows narrowed when he saw the emblem.

Carefully, Harry broke the seal and opened the letter.

 

“Dear Mr. Potter,

my dearest Harry,

 

I was distraught to hear about the horrible business with Sirius Black, I can't even imagine the fear you must have gone through. I hope you are alright!

We heard you spend your last Christmas alone at Hogwarts. What a terrible thing for a young boy like yourself! My husband and I would like to invite you to spend your Christmas vacation with our family at the safety of our home this year.

Our son Draco is very much looking forward to your visit just as we are. He talks about you all the time. You just have to come!

 

Kindest regards,

Narcissa Malfoy”

 

Harry stared at the letter. He read it a second time, but he still failed to fully process the words.

“Fucking pile of dragon d-”, Ron, who had been reading over his shoulder, spat.

“Ron!”, Hermione interrupted him. She looked over Harry, worried, she asked: “Are you OK, Harry? You look like someone just died.”

Harry didn't react until Ron shook his shoulder. “Harry?”

Wordlessly, he handed the letter to Hermione. She silently read through it.

“I don't think you should go”, she hesitantly suggested as she gave the letter back.

“Of course he can't go!”, Ron spluttered, “it's a trap!”

“Of course I won't go!”, Harry declared.

He looked over to the Slytherin table, Malfoy was holding a letter in his hands as well and he was clutching it so hard, his knuckles had turned completely white. He was staring directly at Harry, bloody murder in his eyes. Harry quickly turned away again, though he could still feel the hateful gaze in his neck. There was no chance in hell he was going to spend his holidays with that asshole!

“It'd be a huge insult to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy if you don't – I mean, you obviously can't go, just you'll have to be really careful with how you word your reply”, Ron muttered, awkward.

“Fuck them!”

“Harry!”, Hermione told him off.

Harry turned his eyes on her, angry.

Defensively, she said: “Ron kind of has a point.”

“Then it's a good thing that I won't answer”, Harry stubbornly decided.

They all fell silent and stared at each other gloomily.

The next time any of them said anything was when Professor McGonagall came by to ask Hermione if she was going to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas.

“I'm going home to my parents. We're going skiing”, Hermione explained.

“Well, have fun, Miss Granger!”, McGonagall smiled and made a note on her list, “you'll go home like your siblings, I presume, Mr. Weasley?”

“No, I'll be staying at Hogwarts”, Ron quickly interjected.

The Professor eyed him curiously and made another note, then she turned to Harry.

“I-”, Harry said.

“I already know”, Professor McGonagall said, “Mrs. Malfoy wrote me a letter explaining everything. I think it's great you and young Mr. Malfoy finally made up with each other!”

She had already half turned away.

“I'm not going!”, Harry called after her.

“What?”, she asked, confused.

“I'm staying at Hogwarts!”, Harry insisted.

“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy went to great trouble to invite you. They were very concerned when they heard you spend your last Christmas alone. I think it's very generous of them-”

“It's a trap!”, Ron blurted out.

McGonagall furrowed her brows. “Nonsense!”

“Mr. Malfoy tried to kill me!”, Harry reminded her.

“We went over that. We agreed it was all a horrible misunderstanding!”, McGonagall said.

“No, it wasn't”, Harry muttered.

“You can't go around telling people that, Potter!”, the Professor reprimanded him.

“You know it's true!”, Ron interjected.

“Dobby confirmed it, too!”, Hermione agreed.

Professor McGonagall sighed: “The word of a house-elf and a child! We can't accuse Lucius Malfoy with nothing more than that!”

“What if they're in league with Black?”, Harry asked.

“Look, Potter, the Malfoys won't do anything to you while you're their guest. You'll be perfectly save. And I really think it is past time you learned to get along with their son.”

“But-”, Harry said.

“You're going, Mr. Potter, that is my final word”, McGonagall told him and turned away.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared after her, speechless.

They went to Dumbledore right after breakfast to beseech him to intervene. The headmaster patiently listened to all their objections, he even repeatedly offered each of them some jelly slugs or a biscuit, but in the end he agreed with Professor McGonagall. Harry grudgingly resigned to his fate. At least this way, Ron would go home and spend Christmas with his family after all.


	24. Monday, December 20th

“Draco, dear, would you come to the parlour for a moment? Your father and I would like to speak to you.”

Draco didn't look up as his mom called. He clenched his hands into fists. He hated this! He hated it, he hated it, he hated it!

“Draco, didn't you hear?”

He heaved a sigh and called: “Yes, mom, I'm on my way!”

Angry, he pushed his chair back and got up. Potter was due to arrive shortly, his parents would want Draco to greet him. He felt more like choking the asshole to death. Now that pile of dragon shit was even going to ruin his holidays! Eyes on the floor, Draco walked out of his room, down the corridor and the stairs, through the hall and over to the parlour.

“There you are at last!”, his mom said, “oh, honey, would you just look at yourself! Harry will be here shortly!” She got down to tug at his shirt and ruffle through his hair.

Draco tried to get her hands off of him. His hair was fine!

“Your mom and I wanted to go through some rules with you we set for this visit”, his dad said.

Draco stared at him hostilely.

“You will politely greet Harry when he arrives, and then you will properly apologize to him for that awful and dangerous prank you played on him!”, his mom said.

“I'm not apologizing to that prick”, Draco murmured under his breath.

“What was that?”, his mom asked.

“I'm not apologizing!”

“Don't talk back to your mother!”, his dad yelled at him, “your hand!”

Draco stared at him defiantly.

“Now!”, his dad demanded, dangerously silent.

Draco slowly raised his right hand, palm up, and closed his eyes. His dad slapped his cane right across his palm. Draco suppressed a cry of pain and pressed his hand to his chest. It burned like fire. He blinked away tears from his eyes.

“You will apologize to Potter!”

“Yes, Sir”, Draco pressed forth between clenched teeth.

“While Potter is here, you will be on your absolute best behaviour! No arguing, no fighting! You will be polite and friendly to Potter, and you will treat him like a guest! You will not embarrass me again or so Merlin help you!”

His dad measured him with his eyes and Draco stared back angrily.

“One more thing”, his dad said and held out his hand, demandingly, “your wand!”

“What? No! Father, you-”, Draco started.

His dad lifted his cane again.

“-yes, Sir”, Draco finished.

He handed over his wand and watched as his father took it and went over to his study to lock it away.

“It is for the best, honey, you know you sometimes have your father's temperament. It's only a few days, you'll get it back once Harry has left”, his mom whispered to him, “come, let's get over to the fireplace to greet your guest, he should arrive any minute!”

Draco just looked at her darkly.

Potter made them wait, adding insult to injury. When the flames in the fireplace finally roared up and turned green, Draco's dad had already rejoined them. A moment later, Potter stepped out of the flames, dragging his trunk after him. He looked around warily.

Draco's mom gave Draco a push and he hesitantly stepped forward.

“Hello, Potter”, he muttered without looking the asshole in the eyes.

“Malfoy”, Potter returned icily.

“Welcome to our home!”, Draco's mom piped in.

His dad just nodded silently, the hate in his eyes as he faced Potter barely concealed.

Potter eyed Draco's parents distrustful. “Hello”, he murmured.

There was an awkward silence and Draco's mom tried to give Draco signals with her eyes. Draco ignored her.

“Before he shows you your room, Draco wanted to tell you something”, she prompted.

Draco bite his lips, his mom stared at him. He pressed forth: “I wanted to say I'm sorry.”

'Go on', his mom's eyes seemed to say.

Draco turned back to Potter.

“For slipping you the diuretic. It-it was a childish thing to do and dangerous and stupid”, he swallowed, “I'm sorry and I'm glad you're OK.”

Potter returned Draco's stare just as coldly.

“Don't forget the snake”, he silently reminded him.

Draco grimaced. He had managed to keep that embarrassing incident from his parents till now.

“And for setting the snake on you”, he agreed, grinding his teeth, “I'm sorry for that, too.”

By the look his father gave him, this wouldn't be the last he heard of it. Setting a snake on a Parselmouth. Twice! Dragon dung, his dad so was going to skin him alive for his stupidity!

Potter had noticed, too, and he grinned, spiteful. “I accept your apology”, he said pompously, his hateful eyes speaking an entirely different language.

“Why don't you show Harry to his room, dear?”, Draco's mom interrupted their staring contest.

Without a word, Draco turned around and walked out into the hall. At the door, he turned back. Potter was still standing there, stupidly looking at him. “This way!”, Draco told him.

Potter picked up his trunk and dragged it after him, slowly making his way over. Draco turned back around and went ahead to the first floor. Potter's trunk was heavy and he was obviously struggling to pull it up the stairs. Draco just leaned on the railing and watched.

When Potter, breathing heavily, had finally made it all the way up to the first floor, Draco led him down the corridor to his room. His mom had put Potter in the guest room right next to Draco's own rooms.

“This is where you'll stay”, he told Potter as he opened the door and entered first.

Potter followed him inside and with an exhausted sigh dropped down the trunk. He awkwardly looked around before he went over to the huge double bed, tested the mattress with his hand and clumsily sat down at the foot end, still surreptitiously examining his surroundings. Draco fought a smile. Potter tried to hide it, but he was impressed by the size of the room.

“Sorry about the accommodations”, he said, “I know it's rather small.”

Potter forced himself to stop gawking at the bedpost that was covered in delicate ornaments in the form of snakes. Still trying his best to look unimpressed, but failing, he said: “No, it's OK.”

They both fell silent and there was an uneasy pause. Potter resumed staring at the furniture and Draco wasn't sure what to do with him next. He knew he was supposed to entertain him as a guest he just didn't want to.

“Want to see my rooms?”, he finally asked.

Potter got up, Draco took it as a yes.

He led him over. “This is my den”, he explained as he entered the first room. He dismissively pointed at the shelves that covered almost the entire right wall, “I keep most of my stuff here.”

Potter stared at the rows and rows of magical gizmos and books and toys, round-eyed. Draco followed Potter's look and smirked. He couldn't help but brag a little. “My dad gave me that telescope for my last birthday. My old one must still be around here somewhere... those gobstones are actual jewels. And don't touch that dragon, it's not a toy, it's antique!”, he said smugly, “oh, and it bites”, he added as the statue snapped at Potter's hand.

Potter picked up Draco's old toy Snitch from the shelves and held it up on his palm. It was covered in dents and scratches and its once glossy surface had long since turned dull. Slowly, it unfolded its wings and with laboured flaps it rose up to sluggishly dance around the room. Draco quickly snatched it out of the air. “That's my first practice Snitch”, he said, embarrassed by the crappy toy, “I don't even know why I haven't thrown it away long ago. I got plenty better ones!”

Despite his words, he carefully put the dented gold globe back onto the little cushion it sat on in the shelf. He turned around and quickly walked over to the open door to his second room.

“Over here is my bedroom”, he explained. He let Potter have a glimpse at his big canopy bed, then he closed the door again.

Draco sat down backwards on his desk chair.

Pointing at his armchair, he gregariously offered: “Have a seat!”

Potter slowly came over. For a while they sat there in silence, avoiding each other's gaze. Potter tried not to show it, but his eyes kept wandering around, looking at all the stuff Draco owned. Draco noticed it with some satisfaction. Potter probably hadn't ever even seen the likes of half these things – certainly not at his Muggle home!

Finally, Draco cleared his throat. He asked: “Truce?”

Hesitantly, he offered his hand.

Potter just stared at him darkly, unmoving.

“Look”, Draco tried to be reasonable, “I know you don't want to be here. And just so you know, you're ruining my holiday plans as well!”

Potter still ignored the outstretched hand. He turned away and gloomily contemplated the staring glass eye that sat on Draco's desk and glared back at the both of them. Draco slowly lowered his hand. He ground his teeth.

“Be reasonable, Potter! My parents are gonna skin both of us alive if we don't get along. Would you rather have stayed back at Hogwarts alone? Or gone to that Muggle family of yours that doesn't want you?”, Draco couldn't refrain from throwing that last jab at Potter.

He sure hit a wound spot, for Potter's expression darkened with anger. He smirked at Draco: “They'll skin you alive, you mean.”

Draco glared at him. He so hated that spiteful prick! Through clenched teeth he said: “Look, you can either fight me and I swear I'll make your stay hell as well. Or you agree to play along, maybe then my parents will even allow you to visit the Weasel brood or your Mudblood sweetheart Granger for an afternoon or two and I get to spend a few hours with-”, he awkwardly stopped himself, then he quickly continued, “-without you. Truce?”

He extended his hand again.

Potter didn't seem to see the offered hand, he asked: “With whom?”

“None of your fucking business! Do we have a deal?”

Potter stared at him a long moment before he finally took Draco's hand. “Truce”, he agreed. Neither of them looked particularly comfortable with the idea and they both quickly withdrew their hands and looked away from each other again.

Draco sat there in silence, staring at the floor, the table, the door. Anywhere but at Potter. He shot a surreptitious glance at Potter. The kid was staring intently the other way as well. This was stupid!

“So”, Draco said to no one in particular, “since we kinda sorta have a truce and since you're like a guest, wanna play a game or something?”

“Like what?”, Potter asked.

Draco's eyes wandered over to the shelves. Potter would probably be envious of his limited edition 'Snitch Snatcher!'-game, but that wasn't fun with only two players. Gobstones, no, that was for children. “How about chess?”, he asked.

Potter smiled: “Cool! But I warn you, I'm a good at chess! I play it all the time with Ron!”

“Good”, Draco agreed.

In all honesty, he didn't like how confident Potter looked. Wizard's chess was one of Draco's favorite games and the last thing he needed was Potter beating him at yet another thing that he had trained so hard to get good at. Dragon shit! There was no way that twit was better than him at chess!

He put his board on the table and set up the pieces. Potter looked at the figurines, awed. Draco smirked, but he said nothing. He had gotten this set from his aunt, all pieces were exquisitely hand-carved from ivory and ebony.

“If you're so good, wanna play by tournament rules?”, he asked, casually.

Potter quickly nodded, “sure”, he said, but he suddenly sounded a lot less confident than he probably tried to seem. Draco took note of his uneasiness with some satisfaction.

He put his chess clock on the table as well. Since Potter was the guest, Draco let him have the first move.

At first Draco was on edge and very careful about his moves. He definitely didn't want to loose to Potter. However, he soon realized that, despite Potter's earlier boasting, his nervousness was completely unfounded. Potter, in fact, stank at chess.

His chess pieces thought so, too.

“No, no, don't move me there!”, the white knight complained, “move the bishop!”

He hacked at Potter with his sword as Potter tried to pick up the intractable figure to force it to move. Potter hurriedly withdrew his hand and sheepishly examined the board again. More of his pieces began talking all over each other, giving him contradictory advice. Finally, Potter awkwardly commanded the bishop forward.

Draco slew it with his queen. “Check”, he announced. Potter's pieces muttered to each other even more. Two more inept moves from Potter and Draco had him in checkmate.

In their second game, Potter played more careful and took his sweet time to make his moves, he actually ran out of time only half-way through the game, though Draco didn't mention it. He easily beat Potter again.

However, he couldn't savour his victory. This was no fun, there was no challenge in winning against that fool. No satisfaction in it, it was too easy.

“Let's do something else”, Draco suggested.

Potter looked down at the chess board, unhappy. He uncomfortably shifted around in his seat. “No”, he demanded, “I almost beat you this time! Give me at least one more re-match!”

Draco eyed him pityingly. If the idiot wanted to be beaten up again, who was he to deny him? He shrugged. “Alright.”

He reset up the clock and made sure that this time they had double the previous time limit each. Then he let Potter have the first move.

Draco only paid half attention to the game, he knew he could easily beat his foe. Potter apparently realized it, too, for he grew increasingly fidgety and took more and more time to make his moves.

“Queen to F3”, Draco ordered with hardly a glance at the board, “take his knight!”

“Are you sure?”, the uppity figurine asked.

Draco harrumphed: “Just do as I say!”

Obediently, the black queen moved forward.

“Check”, Draco said.

Potter chewed on his lips as he concernedly examined the board. He nervously bumped his leg up and down.

“Rook to F3”, he finally said.

Draco jerked around as he heard the command, he immediately realized his mistake. Panicky, he looked over his position. Dragon dung! Had he just handed this game to Potter?

The only question was: Did the twit realize it, too? He couldn't let that stupid show-off beat him again! Not him! Not Potter, who was raised by Muggles and was almost a Mudblood himself! Not in this! Not in something that Draco should be so much his better! Not again!

Potter probably thought he had him in a tight spot, too – and rightfully so – but he was still anxious he had missed something. His face was one of utter concentration and he nervously drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for Draco to make his next move. Sadly, though, Draco saw no way to recover his board – short of Potter making an equally stupid move. He shot him an angry glance. At least, he would make the asshole work as hard as possible for his undeserved victory!

Potter was bumping up and down his knee again, shaking the table a little every time. His seeming inability to sit still was kinda annoying and it actually started to get on Draco's nerves. Just when he was about to snap at the stupid kid to sit still for just a second, Potter stood up. Draco looked at him questioningly.

“Erm, could you tell me where the bathroom is?”, Potter murmured, a bit embarrassed.

Suddenly, Draco realized the reason for his foe's nervousness. He asked: “So you're giving up?”

“No”, Potter said, “I just need a bathroom break!”

“Well”, Draco mused, now seriously fighting a mischievous grin, “if you leave, you forfeit the game. Those are the rules.”

“Come on, Malfoy, that's bullshit!”

“You wanted to play by tournament rules!”, Draco insisted, “to how many tournaments have you actually been? I've been to many, I know the rules!”

Of course, he was telling a whole pile of dragon shit. The other kids at the tournaments took bathroom breaks all the time, even teens far older than him. It was really annoying. Naturally, Draco never had interrupted a game to go to the loo, not even on his first tournament when he had been only eight years old. He had been so excited and he had had to go so badly, but he had had some pride! He looked over to the small trophy that sat by his old toy snitch on the shelf. He had even made it third place in that tournament, despite being one of the youngest. Of course, his dad hadn't praised him, oh no! He had been furious because Draco had lost his last match to some Mudblood kid. Draco sighed.

“Sorry, Potter, I can't change the rules! I thought you were serious, but if this is just some children's game to you...”, he trailed off.

Potter actually swallowed his lie! Determined, he sat back down. He made a quick and badly planned out move and Draco managed to threaten both Potter's remaining knight and his bishop. He smirked. Maybe he could still win after all! Potter was scissoring his legs, staring at the board intently. Haltingly, he moved the bishop out of harm's way.

Draco took his time, pretending to think over his turn. His pieces started to mutter to themselves and he hushed them, annoyed. He was still at a disadvantage and his only chance was to play for time. He eyed the game clock and grinned, now he was thankful he had doubled their limit. After a long wait, finally, he took out Potter's knight.

Potter moaned silently. He bit his lip and stared down on the board, nervously seesawing his knees. Then he grinned and ordered his bishop forward. He smiled: “Check!”

Draco swallowed a curse. That move put him three turns away from checkmate. He stared at his king. The figurine looked back at him, worriedly.

“Hurry up, man!”, Potter whined.

“I gotta think this over carefully”, Draco told him, “you took your time making you moves as well!”

A silent whimper escaped Potter, but he didn't protest any more. He pressed his legs together and his left hand slowly wandered down to his crotch. Why didn't that stupid, stubborn prat just give up already?

Draco's pieces grew more and more nervous as well. Finally, his king turned around to him and whispered: “You can only move me or the rook to-”

“Shut up!”, Draco hissed at him.

He took out Potter's bishop with the rook. Potter moaned, he probably realized that Draco was playing on time. He in turn captured Draco's rook with his queen.

Draco pretended to think through his options again. He eyed the clock, he still had almost ten minutes left. He glanced over to his opponent. Potter was holding himself, nervously scissoring his legs and shifting around in his seat. Merlin, why didn't he just concede?

Draco pointedly eyed Potter's hand. “Look, if you gotta go that bad-”

“No! I'm fine”, Potter cut him off. He hurriedly moved the hand away and uncrossed his legs.

“OK”, Draco gave in.

Potter managed to keep still for almost half a minute before he started to bump his knees up and down again.

Draco stubbornly waited the whole ten minutes before he angrily ordered his king to get away from Potter's queen. He couldn't believe that ass was going to win!

Potter gasped with relief as Draco finally hit the clock. Almost instantly, he followed the king with his queen. Now Draco had only one place left to go and he was out of time. He moved his king out of harm's way one last time.

“Queen to C6! Checkmate!”, Potter spluttered, proudly, “I told you I almost had you that last game-”, he bend over with a whimper and grabbed his crotch. He hurriedly got up, “man, I gotta go to the loo!”

Draco gave him a death stare. That stupid pile of dragon dung didn't even realize how bad he played! And Draco had let him win! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Potter staggered over to the door. Halfway out on the corridor, he turned around. He moaned: “Malfoy! Please! Where is the bathroom?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll show you in a second”, Draco grumbled. He reached for the chess pieces and started to furiously stuff them back into their box.

Potter ran back over, he grabbed Draco at the arm and forced him to look up. “Now! I need the loo now!”, he screeched. He had to go so bad, he was shaking and jumping from one foot to the other. For a second Draco thought of tormenting the twat some more. Maybe that would humiliate him and show him his place! But he didn't want to get Potter's piss all over his carpet, besides, his dad would beat him raw. “Door right across the corridor”, he said.

Potter just jerked around and sprinted out. Draco heard him slam the bathroom door shut, then for a very long time, there was nothing until he heard the toilet flush.

A moment later, Potter emerged from the bathroom and rejoined Draco in the den, looking very relieved.

“Man, that was a good piss!”, Potter announced proudly, then he realized what he had just said and grinned awkwardly. Draco gave him an embarrassed look, feeling appropriately ashamed for the both of them.

 

* * *

 

Harry was laying in his bed, unable to sleep. Dinner together with the Malfoys must have been the most awkward time of his life. On the surface, they had all been perfectly polite to him, of course. The food had been really good, too, Mrs. Malfoy had even insisted he take seconds. But the silent looks they all gave him! Harry would have preferred any supper at the Dursleys to this experience.

But that wasn't what kept him awake. Harry peered over to the silhouette of the door in the darkness. He so wished he had the key to lock it! He didn't fear for his life or anything, but what if Malfoy planned to play some nasty prank on him at night? Harry uncomfortably shifted around in his bed. The drynite under his pyjama pants felt awfully thick. What if Malfoy sneaked over to scare him or something stupid like that and he discovered it? He just knew Malfoy would find out! And what was he to do with his used dynite in the morning anyways? At Hogwarts he just waited until he had the washroom for himself for a moment and threw it in the waste bin. He couldn't do that here! What if Malfoy saw it in the trash? Or his parents!

Harry restlessly shifted around again when he heard a floorboard creak on the corridor. Harry instantly froze and listened. Outside, the muffled sound of steps came from the direction where Malfoy's room lay. Was Malfoy coming over for real? Maybe he just had to take a leak and was heading for the bathroom?

But the silent steps continued down the corridor, past Harry's room. What was Malfoy up to in the middle of the night? Now Harry's suspicion was peaked and his curiosity got the better of him.

He quickly got out of bed and sneaked over to the door on his bare feet. He quietly pulled it open a crack and peered outside. In the pale moonlight, he could see Malfoy's back in the distance just as the boy descended the stairs and vanished from his view.

Harry slipped outside and silently followed him. When Malfoy reached the ground floor, he looked around furtively, like he was afraid to be seen. Harry quickly hid behind the railing. Malfoy was acting more and more suspicious! He waited a moment longer, then he turned towards the small sitting room with the fireplace in which Harry had arrived earlier. Harry ran down the stairs and creeped over to the door. He carefully peered into the room.

Malfoy was standing at the fireplace, poking at the embers with an iron rod. While he had his back turned, Harry quickly got closer and hid behind an armchair. When Malfoy had rekindled the fire, he put away the iron and sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Harry peeked around his armchair. Some minutes passed, but Malfoy was still just sitting there. What the hell was he doing here? Maybe he just couldn't sleep either.

Just when Harry contemplated leaving and going back to bed, he heard the fire roar up and the shifting lights it cast on the walls turned green for a second. Harry held his breath and cowered deeper behind the armchair.

“Draco?”, he heard a whisper.

By the sound of it, Malfoy literally jumped up from his seat. Excited, he answered: “Yeah, I'm here! I almost thought you had forgotten!”

“Sorry”, the other one said. A young teen like them, judging by his voice. Harry recognised him, he was certain he had heard that voice before! Some Slytherin classmate? He just couldn't pin it on a person. Harry tried to get a glimpse at the face in the fireplace as it continued to talk, “I nearly wouldn't have made it for real, thought my dad would never go to bed! Man, I miss you already!”

“Yeah, miss you, too, Theo!”, Malfoy said. Theodore Nott! That was who the voice belonged to!

“Had a nice day together with your dad?”, Malfoy asked.

“He's been working all day”, Nott sighed.

“Sorry! I so wish you were here instead of Potter!”

“Yeah, me too! How are you keeping up?”

“Potter is driving me nuts! Dad even took my wand away while he's here, can you believe that?”

“That's harsh.”

They both fell silent for a moment.

Then Nott spoke up again: “You sure I can't come through for just a second?”

“No, dad warded the fireplace! He'd know!”, Draco said.

“I just want to hold you, I miss you already!”

“I know”, Malfoy said and knelt down in front of the fireplace.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Was Malfoy really bowing down and kissing Nott's face in the embers? Harry blushed and quickly retreated behind the armchair again.

“I want to kiss you for real! I want to touch you, I love you so much!”, Nott whispered.

That wasn't at all what Harry had expected and now he felt bad for eavesdropping on Malfoy's conversation. He decided that it was high time to leave. He took a quick peek around his cover, Malfoy still had his back turned and he shielded Harry from Nott's view with his body. Harry rose up and darted towards the exit. Only, in the darkness, he hadn't seen the carpet and he tripped over it's edge and with an audible crash stumbled into a table.

Harry jerked around. Malfoy was staring at him wide-eyed with an expression of complete shock on his face. Harry looked back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

When Malfoy made a step in his direction, Harry just turned and ran. He could hear Malfoy's angry steps right behind him. Harry shot up the stairs and down the corridor to his room like the devil himself was after him.

He bolted into his room, slammed the door shut and leaned against it. A moment later, Malfoy burst into it, and the hinges creaked alarmingly, but the door held.

The handle moved down, but Harry grabbed it and pulled it back up.

“Potter!”, Malfoy hissed on the other side.

He pounded on the door and jerked at the handle again, but Harry held on to it like his life depended on it. Malfoy's body slammed into the door a second time and he tore at the handle.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. Harry heard him walk over to his own room and slam shut the door. Crap, what if Malfoy was getting his wand to blast the door open? Harry eyed his trunk, in which his own wand still was buried, but he didn't dare to leave the door.

He waited, anxiously listening for some sound from Malfoy. Silence. Maybe he had left for good? Maybe he had calmed down. Hadn't he said he didn't have his wand? Harry wasn't sure any more. He still held the handle in his hands. Maybe he ought to take a peek to make sure? Or was Malfoy outside, quietly waiting for him to do just that? Harry listened at the door. Probably safest he waited a bit longer.

But Malfoy didn't return. After a long while, Harry finally let go of the door handle and haltingly went over to his bed to crawl under the blankets. He felt really bad about himself. He really hadn't meant to invade Malfoy's privacy like that. Should he have apologized? He stared up at the dark ceiling, and contemplated what he could do about it now that the damage was done. Should he bring it up in the morning and apologize? Or was it best he didn't mention any of it ever again?

His worries kept him awake a long time before finally, his tiredness caught up to him and he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	25. Tuesday, December 21st

In the morning, Draco woke up to a wet bed like usual. With an angry stab his bladder informed him that it needed urgent emptying, too. He groaned, he hadn't gotten much sleep that night either. He had lain awake, worrying that Potter would tell his parents – especially his dad.

Out of habit, Draco reached for his wand on the nightstand, though of course, his hand didn't find it. He swallowed a silent curse, quickly pushed off his blankets and jumped out of bed. He hurriedly ripped off his soaked pyjamas and rushed over to his chest of drawers. Fidgeting all the time, he got out a clean one that looked at least remotely similar to the one he had worn and clumsily slipped into it.

He made a step towards the door, but then he hesitated and turned around. He couldn't leave his soaked bed and the wet pyjamas on the floor for everybody to see like that! With a groan, he quickly snatched up the pyjamas, threw them onto the bed and hastily pulled the blanket back up to cover up the mess. Then he ran out again. At the door, he turned around again and gave his work a critical look. It would do. For a second, he had to cross his legs, then he quickly pulled the door shut behind himself and hurriedly crossed his den.

He took a furtive peek down the corridor. To his relieve, it was deserted and the door to Potter's room was still closed. Draco made a beeline for the bathroom, ripped open the door, took one look inside to make sure it wasn't occupied, then he was already in, slammed the door shut and locked it.

He sprinted over to the toilet, pushed back the lid and ripped down his pants. Then he aimed his member at the bowl and with a relieved moan, he opened the floodgates.

He was almost finished, when someone tried the door handle and then urgently knocked at the door.

“Someone in there?”, Potter's voice asked.

Draco cramped up completely and his stream immediately stopped. He was so glad he had taken the time to lock the door!

“Occupied”, he awkwardly called out.

There was a short silence, then Potter whined: “Hurry up! I gotta go to the loo!”

Draco ignored him. He turned back to the toilet and tried to relax. Potter pounded on the door again. “Hurry up!” Draco shot an annoyed glance at the door. He sure wasn't going to finish peeing with that twit outside! Well, he had almost finished anyways. Hesitantly, he pulled up his pants and flushed the toilet – even though he hated announcing to Potter that he just had used the loo himself. Then he proceeded to wash his hands. He didn't particularly hurry.

Once he had carefully dried off his hands, he went over to the door to unlock it. The second he turned the key, Potter burst inside and tried to slip past him. Draco caught his arm and shoved him against the wall. He quickly pushed the door shut again.

“So, you were spying on me last night?”, he confronted Potter.

“No! Yes! I'm sorry!”, the stupid kid whined and tried to wiggle out of his grip.

Draco pushed him against the wall harder and leaned on him. “You listened in on me and Theo! What did you hear? You going to tell anyone?”

“No! I-I won't! I promise! Please, I really need the loo!”, Potter begged, but Draco was angry and afraid.

“You're going to tell my parents?”

Potter squirmed. “No! No! Please!”

“I swear, if you tell on me, if you prevent me and Theo from talking the rest of the Holidays, I make your life hell!”

“Please-”, Potter moaned. Suddenly, a shiver went through him and he stopped fidgeting. Instead, Draco heard an all too familiar hissing sound. Potter started to sob. Draco awkwardly stepped away from him and looked down.

Potter didn't move, he just stood there, bawling. To Draco's surprise, no wetness showed on Potter's groin at first, though the hissing continued and Draco knew he wasn't mistaken about the kid pissing himself. Then, the right leg of Potter's pyjama pants began to darken at the crease between his groin and his tight. The pee quickly spread down his leg and a tiny bit dripped down to the floor, forming a little puddle around Potter's bare foot. A small wet spot formed on the inside of his left pyjama leg as well, but before it could extend all the way down, Potter had already finished peeing.

Draco stared at it and at the puddle on the floor. Dragon dung! He really hoped Potter wouldn't tell about this either, or he had just gotten himself in even deeper shit! He awkwardly looked at the mess the kid had made. Then he suddenly wondered, Potter had been peeing full-force for like a minute, and yet there was just this tiny puddle? He pushed the thought away and looked back up at Potter. The stupid twat was crying uncontrollably.

“Potter?”, Draco asked awkwardly.

But the bawling boy was completely unresponsive.

“Potter?”, Draco asked, louder. Potter still didn't react.

Draco figured, he was in even more trouble if he just left Potter like that and the boy later told on him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you wet yourself”, he said without looking Potter in the eyes, “come on, let's get you into the bathtub!”

Potter didn't resist as Draco gently pushed him in the direction of the tub, but he also didn't help. He just stood there and cried. Draco turned on the water, then he turned back to Potter.

“Take off your pyjamas!”, he instructed.

Potter didn't respond.

“I said, you have to take of your wet clothes!”, Draco tried again. Nothing. It didn't look like Potter was able to take care of cleaning himself in his state. Uneasy, Draco knelt down in front of him, “I'm going to help you undress, OK?”

He took Potter's silence as agreement and hesitantly reached for the waistband of Potter's pyjama bottoms. At least he didn't have to touch any of the pee-soaked parts! As he pulled at them, Potter wailed even louder. “No! Don't!”, he blubbered between sobs, but Draco already had the pants down to Potter's knees. He pulled them down all the way, then he looked up at the strange pair of briefs they had revealed. They were hugely bloated and felt extremely saggy when Draco hesitantly touched them. To Draco's confusion – but also great relief – they felt dry on the outside. Potter started crying even more desperately. Draco hardly had to pull at the pair of briefs, they were so heavy, they almost slid down on their own and slumped to the floor with a wet squish.

Draco couldn't help but take a quick glance. His adversary was kinda small down there still and except for a few lone black hairs, he was completely smooth. Draco quickly looked away again. Potter was still bawling his eyes out. Draco clumsily guided him to step out of his pants. Then he raised the boy's arms and stripped off his pyjama tops as well. Now Potter stood before him completely in the nude. Draco awkwardly checked the temperature of the water.

“We gotta get you in the tub”, he told Potter.

Like he had feared, the boy didn't move, so Draco carefully put Potter's hands on his shoulders to give him a hold, then, one by one, he raised Potter's legs over the rim of the tub and sat them back down inside. He had to fight a shiver as he touched the kid's pee-covered skin. Though, it wasn't entirely out of disgust. Awkward as it was, seeing the black-haired boy in such a helpless state, being so close to him and touching him felt kind of... nice? Draco shook off that horrifying thought.

Once Potter was safely placed under the shower, Draco immediately let go of him. Brusquely, he told him: “Wash yourself!”

He quickly turned away from Potter and, searching for something else to look at, his eyes fell on the odd pair of briefs. Draco squat down to examine them closer. He hesitated a moment, then he reached for them. Only when he picked them up, he realized how incredibly thick they really were and how heavy. But just in the crotch and back, on the sides the fabric was so flimsy, he could almost look through it. There was a picture printed on the front – some Muggle kid balancing on one of those strange roller boards Draco sometimes saw them ride down the streets. It felt completely dry there, though the bloated inside was soaking wet and when Draco gently pressed down on it, a little bit of liquid leaked out at the side.

Just then the realization hit him: He was touching Potter's still warm piss! Draco dropped the disgusting thing like it was on fire and hurriedly got up. He went over to the sink and gave his hands a most thorough wash. When he turned back around, he saw that Potter was still just stupidly standing under the shower, motionless and sobbing silently.

Draco reached for the soap and put it into Potter's hand. “You have to clean yourself!”, he reminded him and made washing motions with his hands.

Potter haltingly started to rub the soap over his body. Draco shot him another awkward glance to make sure the kid was actually washing himself, then he quickly went to the door and slipped out to give Potter some privacy. He pulled the door shut behind himself.

On the corridor, Draco eyed the door to Potter's room and bit his lip. Potter would probably take a while in the bathroom, so maybe Draco could quickly borrow his wand to take care of his own bed without anyone noticing? He ran over and hurriedly looked around in the guest room. Potter's wand wasn't on the nightstand. Not under the pillow either. He opened the wardrobe, but found it empty. Potter hadn't bothered to unpack his clothes yet. Draco eyed the huge trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. He quickly opened it and dug through the piles of clothes. Where the fuck had Potter hidden his stupid wand? Shirts, underwear – one of the briefs had a faint skid mark on it and Draco immediately dropped it again, horrified – a pair of worn jeans, one sock, it was like Potter had blindly picked up a bunch of random clothes and just stuffed them all into his trunk. Did that twat know no order at all?

Draco reached the bottom of the trunk, but still no wand. Instead, he found two big plastic packs. He picked one up. The front showed a picture of the strange briefs Potter had worn. 'DryNites', it said above it and, in smaller print 'Pyjama Pants 8-15 years'. On the top there was an image of some sleeping kid laying in bed – the picture wasn't moving, though, even when Draco shook it. He turned the pack around and examined it further. Apparently, it contained nine of those strange briefs. Or it had once, for it was ripped open at the side and, presumably, Potter had removed the pair he had been wearing. Draco stared at the pack. He remembered how thick and wet the thing had been. He eyed Potter's bed, which was completely dry, then he looked back at the pack and re-read the description. 'Absorbent pants for the night' and 'like real underwear' the fine print said.

Suddenly, he realised that he didn't hear the shower running anymore. He dropped the drynite pack back into the trunk and got up, but at that moment Potter entered the room, just wearing a towel around his waist. Potter stared at Draco, then at his open trunk and the pack of drynites laying on top of the clothes inside. He started crying again.

“Now you're gonna tell everyone! I'm gonna loose all my friends!”, Potter sobbed.

Draco genuinely felt a bit bad about himself. A very tiny bit. Almost. But that wasn't the point, his parents were going to kill him for real if they heard that stupid twit's wailing and they found him like this!

“I won't”, Draco muttered.

Potter didn't even seem to have heard him. The kid was completely out of his mind and kept on bawling his eyes out while jammering incoherently about loosing all his friend.

Draco stepped up to Potter and slapped him across the face.

“Snap out of it! I said I won't tell!”, he yelled at him.

Potter just stared at him for a second, scared, then he started weeping even louder.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just calm down, OK?”, Draco tried to hush him.

But Potter wouldn't. Draco didn't know what else to do, he took Potter's hand and dragged him over to his own bedroom. He awkwardly eyed Potter, then he pulled back the blanket from his bed to reveal the wet mess below.

“See?”, he said, “I won't tell.”

He nervously waited for Potter's reaction. Any reaction. At first, the boy just stared at Draco's wet bed without understanding. He looked up at Draco and back down at the bed.

“You... too?”, he finally asked.

Draco sighed: “Yeah.”

He quickly drew the blanket back up and ushered Potter out of the bedroom. He eased him into the armchair in the den and sat down opposite to him.

Potter faced him with his teary eyes, confused, he snivelled: “Why did you show me?”

“So you know I won't tell on you”, Draco gently explained.

“But what if I tell on you?”

“Then I will tell on you, too.”

Potter thought about that. “Why didn't you just keep your bed-wetting a secret and made fun of me?”

Draco looked at the floor. “You're such an idiot, like, there is so much stuff to ridicule you about, it just didn't feel right to use something like this”, he said, embarrassed.

 

* * *

 

After Harry had fully calmed down again, he realized that Malfoy had undressed him and seen him naked and that he was sitting across from him, still only wearing a towel. And that Malfoy had a boyfriend! Harry hurriedly closed his legs.

“You... did you like seeing me naked?”, he asked, haltingly.

Malfoy blushed and avoided eye contact. “Of course not!”, he barked.

Harry bit his lip. “I understand”, he said, “I mean, it's natural, you're gay, it's just a bit awkward and-”

“I'm not gay!”, Draco interrupted him.

“You have a boyfriend”, Harry pointed out to him, embarrassed, “You and Nott are boyfriends, are you not?”

“Yes. No! That's totally different!”, Malfoy spluttered.

“How?”, Harry asked in a tiny voice.

“Well, no, it's like... look, you don't understand! It's different!”, Malfoy stammered, “I like Theo, OK? But I like girls, too! I think. I mean, you're supposed to like girls, right? I like girls!”

“It's OK, too, if you don't”, Harry pointed out.

Malfoy stared at him with a look of... confusion? Shame? Embarrassment? Harry wasn't sure, maybe a little bit of all three. Malfoy abruptly got up.

“I gotta take a shower myself”, he said, “erm, can I borrow your wand for a moment afterwards?”

Now he was definitely embarrassed.

“Why?”, Harry asked.

“My dad took mine”, Malfoy confessed silently.

“No, I mean, what for?”, Harry clarified.

Malfoy glanced over to the bedroom door. He said: “I gotta cast my bed clean.”

“Oh, sure”, Harry agreed, now feeling a bit ashamed himself, “but what about the ban on underage magic?”

Malfoy snorted. “You're in a wizard's house”, he explained, “the closest Muggle lives like twenty miles away. I use magic all the time!”

While Malfoy quickly popped under the shower, Harry went over to his room to get dressed and fetch his wand. He made sure to bury the pack of drynites at the bottom of his trunk again while he was at it. He still couldn't believe Malfoy of all people now shared his secret.

The wand in hand, Harry returned to Malfoy's room. He had hardly sat down when Malfoy entered, just wearing a towel around his hips. He took the wand from Harry and cast a cleaning charm on his bed. Harry feinted disinterest, though he stealthily listened and watched the wand movements closely. He and Ron always had laughed off such charms as girly and he certainly hadn't expected Malfoy to know one. If he was honest, though, the knowledge of even one cleaning charm would have saved him from embarrassment more than once. He was too proud to ask Malfoy to repeat the exact incantation and wand movements for him, but he made a mental note to look up the charm in the library when he was back at Hogwarts.

Malfoy returned his wand to him, then the Slytherin just dropped his towel right in front of Harry and proceeded to dress himself while they talked. Harry was a bit embarrassed and tried not to look, though, of course, he was used to dorm life at Hogwarts as well. His foe was quite a bit bigger than him in the male department already, he noticed, and he sprouted a small bush of blonde hair down there.

When Malfoy turned his back to him, Harry saw the red streaks on his buttocks.

“What-what happened to you?”, he blurted out.

Malfoy faced him again, confused. He asked: “What do you mean?”

“Your ass”, Harry pointed at the marks with a finger.

Malfoy's expression darkened. “Are you happy about your handiwork or do you want to gloat some more?”, he spat and stuck out his ass for Harry to see.

“What do you mean? I don't-”, Harry said.

“Yeah! Innocent little Potter! What did you expect would happen when you told my dad about the snake?”, Draco huffed, “got me a nice thrashing!”

“He honesty beat you for that?”, Harry gasped.

“Of course he did”, Draco said, angry.

Harry looked down at his feet. “I'm sorry”, he murmured quietly.

Draco stared at him a moment longer, annoyed, then he abruptly pulled his briefs over the offending marks and proceeded to quickly put on the rest of his clothes.

“Honestly, I'm so sorry!”, Harry stuttered, “I didn't think... I... that is horrible!”

Malfoy remained silent.

A horrible thought occurred to Harry. He quietly asked: “When I eavesdropped on you and Nott last night – I'm really sorry for that, too, by the way! – and... you were worried I would tell your parents about it. They won't punish you for being gay, would then?”

Draco burst out laughing.

“I told you, I'm not gay! And of cause they wouldn't!”, he angrily corrected Harry, “I could fuck that Granger Mudblood for all my dad cares as long as I keep it quiet! But he will kill me for being stupid enough to let you find out and I'd get a good licking for secretly using the fireplace on top of it!”

Harry ignored the jab against Hermione. He silently asked: “Have... have you talked to anyone about this? Isn't there someone who could do something about this? Professor Dumbledore maybe? Or Professor Lupin! Professor Lupin is really nice, he'll know what to do! I... I can go with you if you want. I-”

Draco grabbed him at his shirt and forced him to get up so their faces were at the same height. “You'll tell no one, do you understand!”, he hissed, “do you want to embarrass me even more? You do something wrong, you get a beating. That's how it is!”

“No it's not! That's horrible!”

“Don't tell me your Muggle uncle never gave you a thrashing!”

Harry avoided Malfoy's eyes. Uncle Vernon had done a lot o terrible things to him, but he had never physically hurt him. “No”, he muttered, “look, we could go to Professor McGonagall – or Dumbledore, he would help-”

With an angry cry, Draco pushed him back down into his seat.

He yelled: “Yeah! They always help YOU! Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, all the teachers, they always favour you! If it's famous Harry Potter, they always bend the rules! You're always the centre of attention and you always get rewarded. You don't even study that hard! You slack off all the time and hang out with that waster Weasley! I am studying every day! I WORK very hard for my achievements! I have been flying a broom since before I could walk! I have trained for years to become as good a seeker as I am today! You were made seeker the first day you ever sat on a broom! Dragon dung, you got a fucking Nimbus dropped into your lap by your teacher! You never learned anything about magic, you don't study, you don't do your homework and yet you receive outstandings because you're the teacher's pet. Just because you're famous Harry Potter! That oaf Hagrid favours you, too, and he is really mean to all Slytherin! You and your friends constantly break the rules and the teachers just look the other way while I already get punished for looking at you the wrong way! I work hard and study for years to get good at something and then you come along and everything just falls into your lap! No one ever notices when I do good because they only have eyes for famous Harry Potter! Everything always is about Harry Potter! There are fucking hundreds of Dementors at Hogwarts right now just to protect you! Even my dad always only talks of you! Do you remember last year's match Slytherin against Hufflepuff? That we only won by ten points because I caught the snitch? No? Do you think my dad does? Do you think he congratulated me on that catch? Or on any of the other matches we won? Even once? No! You know what he does? He is sending me fucking newspaper clippings about YOU! Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that! It's always Harry Potter!”

Malfoy's voice had turned more and more whiny as he went on with his tirade and he ended abruptly in a sob. He quickly turned away, but Harry had seen the tears in his eyes. He hadn't realized that that was how Malfoy had felt all the time. He still was kind of an arrogant, self-centred prick. Harry hadn't chosen to be the boy who lived and he would have given everything to grow up with his parents instead! Malfoy had never seen his life at the Dursleys either. And his teachers didn't favour him! They didn't, did they? Yet, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

“I'm sorry, Draco”, he whispered, more to himself than to the other boy.


	26. Friday, December 24th

On Christmas Eve Harry woke up early. When he sat up and looked out of the window, he saw the landscape glittering bright white in the first sunlight. It had snowed over night – they would have a white Christmas! Harry got up and stepped over to the window, his wet drynite dangling heavily between his legs. He had to pull it back up to keep it from sliding down all the way.

Just at that moment, the door flung open.

“Morning, Potter”, Malfoy said. Like usual, he didn't bother waiting for Harry to ask him in.

Harry quickly pulled his pyjama bottoms back over his drynite, then he turned to face the intruder.

“Malfoy.”

Malfoy strode to the middle of the room and stopped in front of Harry's bed. There wasn't a single wet spot on his pyjamas and they looked freshly ironed – like he had just gotten them from his wardrobe. Which he probably had, given the resentful way he examined Harry's bed, which of cause was completely dry as well.

For a second the Slytherin's eyes darted up and their eyes met, then Malfoy looked away again.

“Can I...?”, he asked, awkward. His eyes wandered over to Harry's wand on the bedside table. He didn't finish the question.

“Sure”, Harry muttered. So his suspicion had been right.

Draco snatched up the wand and quickly left. From the room next door, Harry heard him whisper the incantation of a cleaning spell. Harry sat down on his own bed, the wet drynite squishing under his weight. Truth be told, he actually felt a bit bad for Malfoy. Harry knew all too well how awful it was to wake up in a wet bed every morning.

With a silent sigh, he reached over to his trunk and pulled out the pack of drynites from under the clothes. It was his last but one pack. Had he spend the holidays at Ron's place like they had planned, he could just have asked Mrs Weasley to buy him new ones. Now he would have to write to her so she could send him some at the start of the next term before he ran out.

Harry silently did the math in his head. Eight more days before he got back to Hogwarts. This pack still held five more plus the nine from his last one. That left him with only six to spare ...

Malfoy's return interrupted his thoughts.

“Thanks”, he muttered without looking Harry in the eyes. He flipped around the wand and awkwardly held it out to Harry.

He tried to hide how hard it was on him to rely on Harry's help, but the embarrassment was all over his face. His eyes wandered down to Harry's dry bed and his expression turned even more sour. He probably regretted he had ever told Harry about his bedwetting.

Harry took the wand. Softly, he said: “I had a wet night, too.”

Malfoy didn't acknowledge that he had heard a word, he just gloomily stared at the dry bed.

Harry swallowed. “Do you ...? You could borrow ...”, he stammered, “I mean, like ... if you want you could try, I'd give you one of my drynites tonight?”

Malfoy harrumphed. “You want me to wear a diaper? No way! I'm not a baby like-”, he stopped himself, though Harry got his meaning anyways.

He looked down, embarrassed. “At least I am keeping my bed dry”, he whispered.

Malfoy's face turned red. For a second, he stared at Harry, hateful. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then stormed out without another word. Harry heard him run into his room and slam shut the door behind him.

Darn it! He knew he should have bitten his tongue, but sometimes Malfoy just was such an ass! The truce between them was brittle at best, even though Harry tried to get along. He honestly tried! He really didn't want to get Malfoy into any more trouble with his dad, but Malfoy sure didn't make it easy.

Harry sighed again. This time, clearly Malfoy had started the fight, so why was Harry feeling guilty about talking back to the jerk?

He got up and went over to the bathroom to get rid of his drynite and take a long, hot shower.

 

* * *

 

Harry was long since back to his room and dressed, when an hour later, Malfoy's mom called them for breakfast. Harry put the book he had been reading aside and got up. Malfoy, too, emerged from his room. Without a word, he walked past Harry's and down the corridor. Harry followed him.

At the foot of the stairs, Malfoy lingered to let Harry catch up, glowering at him, impatient and obviously still angry. Harry stared back at him darkly, he had meant well, he sure wasn't going to apologize to the stupid ass!

He turned towards the dining room, but Malfoy stopped him. “This way!” He barked and started in a different direction, stopped after a few steps and, when Harry wasn't immediately following him, gave him an annoyed look. “It's Christmas Eve”, he explained like Harry was half-witted, “on Christmas Eve we have breakfast in the sunroom.”

The Malfoys were the only people Harry knew who used different rooms for breakfast and for dinner – and apparently they even had more than one for each occasion. Harry hesitantly turned around and fell in besides Malfoy. The Slytherin led him down a long hallway, past portraits of old and unfriendly-looking witches and wizards, who sneered at Harry, until they reached the sunroom, where Malfoy's parents were already sitting at the breakfast table.

“Good morning mom, dad!”, Malfoy beamed, a fake-smile suddenly all over his face. He always put up a show around his parents, always the perfect son.

“Good morning”, Harry echoed, awkward. He never felt comfortable around Mr and Mrs Malfoy. As he sat down besides Draco, Harry shot Mr Malfoy a quick look. The man was staring right at him, the hatred in his eyes barely hidden. Harry quickly reached for his hot chocolate and took a long gulp to hide behind the mug. He still remembered that look in those eyes from when Mr Malfoy had tried to kill him, it send a shiver down his spine.

“I heard you both up early today. Didn't you sleep well tonight?”, Mrs Malfoy asked just as the silence threatened to become awkward.

“Yes, mom. We're just excited about tomorrow!”

“Oh, of cause! It's your first real Christmas, isn't it, Harry?”

“Uh”, Harry said around his mug.

“You poor dear! Living with those muggles for all those years must have been so awful!”

Harry didn't answer. He nervously refilled his hot chocolate and slumped down on his chair in an attempt to become invisible.

While Malfoy's mom continued to make uneasy conversation, his dad and Malfoy himself shot Harry death stares behind her back. Harry didn't feel very hungry, he just hid behind his mug and hoped the others finished their breakfast soon so he would be allowed to get up and flee the room.

“Mom, can Harry and I go play Quidditch after breakfast?”

Harry shot Malfoy a surprised glance as he heard the question.

“Oh, you haven't shown Harry your Quidditch pitch yet, have you? You're the Gryffindor seeker, aren't you, Harry? Draco loves Quidditch, too!”, Mrs Malfoy said.

“Uh-huh”, Harry confirmed, reluctant.

“May we?”, Draco begged.

“Of cause, dear!”

For a second, Harry actually looked forward to flying a broom again and feeling the wind on his face. Then it suddenly dawned on him what Malfoy was playing at. “I don't have a broom”, he said, quiet.

“Oh, yes! I totally forgot! You drove your Nimbus into the whomping willow!”, Malfoy said, his voice dripping with fake pity, “didn't you, Potter? Tore it completely to pieces. It's such a shame!” He looked right at Harry and for a second an evil grin twisted his face.

Harry took another long swig from his hot chocolate so he didn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of showing him his face.

But again, Malfoy surprised him: “Harry can borrow one of our brooms, can't he, mom?”

Mrs Malfoy nodded. “Of cause, honey.”

“Thanks”, Harry muttered.

Malfoy finished his hot chocolate. “May we get up?”

He barely waited for his mom to nod her agreement.

“Thanks for the food”, Harry muttered, then he quickly turned and ran after Malfoy.

The Slytherin led him back to the foyer where he told Harry to “wait here!” and vanished through a door behind the stairs. A moment later, he reemerged, his Nimbus 2001 in one hand and a positively ancient broom in the other. It sure had seen better times, the handle was visibly worn and it was missing a twig or two. Malfoy held out the sorry thing to Harry.

“Here, I thought you'd like this one. Shooting Star. Just like the school brooms, you're probably used to them by now. How long since your Nimbus got destroyed? Must be close to seven weeks already?”

“Six, actually.”

“Shame.”

Harry ground his teeth, but he refused to give Malfoy the satisfaction and took the decrepit broom without complaint. Malfoy shot him a nasty grin, then he ran up to his room to get a practice snitch. Harry followed him to put on his winter coat. He had barely gotten it from his luggage when Malfoy appeared in the door, also wearing a coat now. He motioned Harry to follow and led the way back down the stairs and out the back entrance into the garden.

They went past a huge, frozen fountain and through a maze of snow-covered bushes and hedges. Harry got the feeling some of the stone statues of witches and wizards were watching him just like the portraits as he passed. Though, every time he looked back, none of them seemed to move.

“Famous wizard?”, Harry asked, eyeing the statue of a crook-nosed wizard wearing a huge wig who he was certain had just turned his head to sneer at him.

Draco stopped for a moment and looked up at the wizard, thinking. “Brutus Malfoy”, he said haltingly, “he lived at the height of the persecution. Saved a great many witches and wizards.”

“He looks a bit hostile”, Harry observed.

“He just doesn't like blood-traitors very much, nor-”, Malfoy shot him a pointed look, “well, your kind.”

Harry decided to keep his distance from the statues from then on. They both walked on in silence. After maybe ten minutes, the hedges finally cleared and Malfoy stopped at the beginning of a huge meadow, glittering snow white in the early sun.

“My private training field”, he said, proud, “only I and my friends use it.”

Harry looked over to the forest border in the distance. The field was big enough to fit a real Quidditch pitch, there even stood three goalposts near the tree line!

Malfoy watched him, a smug grin on his face, and Harry quickly forced himself to stop gawking.

 

* * *

 

Draco pulled the snitch out of his pocket. It was the same make the Wimbourne Wasps – Draco's favourite Quidditch team – used for training, not some cheap merchandise. His dad had gotten it for him through Ludovic Bagman, who was a former beater for the Wasps and still an active supporter of the team. Dad knew him from the ministry.

“Best of three?”, he asked.

“Sure.”

Draco grinned and held up the snitch. It unfolded its wings and tried to tug away from his grip. “Ready?”

Potter straddled his broom and nodded his agreement and Draco let go of the snitch. It danced around them aimlessly for a second before it suddenly zoomed away. Within a moment, they lost sight of the small globe. Potter stayed on the ground until Draco had mounted his broom as well, then he pushed himself into the air. Draco let him have a small head start before he raced after him. His Nimbus easily overtook the Shooting Star, then Draco pulled his broom into a rapid climb. The cold air was blowing in his face as he accelerated even faster and Draco laughed. He had missed flying. He took a large spiral until he drew to a stop high above the field. Potter was still climbing, far below him.

“You can fly as high as your broom allows, there are no muggles around for miles, don't worry!”, Draco shouted down to him, laughing.

Potter flipped him the bird. Draco grinned, but he did wait for Potter to get into position as well before he started to look around for the snitch. Having some well-deserved fun at Potter's expense was one thing, but he didn't need to cheat to beat that prick! Draco didn't underestimate Potter's skills, he knew the kid was a decent seeker, but Draco also knew that he was better than the stinking half-blood. They had only played once against each other and it had been pure luck that Potter had caught the snitch. Besides, it had been Draco's first real match and he had just been nervous!

In fact, it still was Draco's only real match so far. To be honest, he was rather anxious at the thought of their upcoming match against Ravenclaw. In his first year they had completely flattened Gryffindor. They had a new seeker this year, a girl, but they had already beaten Hufflepuff hands down. Plus there was this nagging doubt at the very back of Draco's mind – his dad had promised him that he hadn't; and Flint had told him a thousand times that he was an excellent seeker, even though he had called him an idiot after that first match – but what if dad had bought him into the team after all and he wasn't up to it?

From the corner of his eye he saw Potter suddenly dive towards the forest border. He followed Potter's direction with his eyes, there was a golden twinkle in between the second and third goalposts. He jerked around his broom and forced it into a dive as well. He caught up to Potter just before the first post. The snitch was zooming through the third goal and away back to the middle of the field again, twinkling in the sun. Draco pulled a sharp turn, almost grazing the post, Potter right in front of him. Side by side, they raced after the escaping snitch. Draco caught it only by inches.

Draco landed and triumphantly held up the tiny golden globe in his hand, a smug grin on his face. Potter jumped off his broom as well and came over. He was laughing, too. “Good catch!” The kid didn't even seem to play it. “Another match?”

“Sure.” Draco shot him a half-annoyed, half-confused look.

He released the snitch and again they mounted their brooms. This time, the match went on longer. Draco actually spotted the snitch first, but he missed it and he lost it again as it flew in between the trees. They both spied it a few times but always failed to catch it. Once it went by right behind Potter's back and in between the goalposts. Potter almost collided with the second goal trying to jerk his broom around. When he had his broom under control again, the snitch was gone. It took almost an hour before Draco finally managed to catch it.

They landed in the middle of the field again. “I win.” Draco beamed.

Potter didn't seem to mind too much, which oddly irked Draco. “Another one just for fun?”, the Gryffindor suggested.

Draco was getting a bit cold, all that hot chocolate from early was making its way through his body, too, and he felt a little pressure in his lower abdomen. But he was having fun. One more game couldn't hurt. He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Could we switch brooms this time?”

Draco snorted. “No.”

“Come on, I've got the crappy one two times already!”

“No.”

Potter pouted, but he gave up the argument and instead straddled his Shooting Star. Draco released the snitch and got onto his broom as well. He pushed himself off the ground and rose in a long spiral, until he was high above the pitch. He started looking around for the snitch, but the small ball turned out to be even more elusive than the last game.

Once Draco caught a glimpse of it near the hedge maze, but by the time he had reached the place where he had seen it twinkle, the snitch was long gone. Potter, too, dove down one or two times, but he never caught it either. Twenty minutes went by. Draco was circling high above the Quidditch pitch. An icy wind had sprung up and it was getting at him, his hand and feet felt really cold and it made him have to pee even more.

Just then Potter called him and signalled for a break. Potter flew over to the forest border, Draco behind him. Potter landed while Draco pulled up besides him, hovering over the ground. “What's up?”

Instead of an answer, Potter signalled him to stay, dismounted his broom and ran away. Draco was about to call after him to demand an explanation, when Potter had reached a tree and stopped. He unzipped his trousers.

Draco quickly looked away, embarrassed. How could Potter be so unabashed and just piss on a tree right in front of him? He almost imagined hearing his piss hit the bark and splatter into the snow below. Draco's bladder gave him a nudge and he clenched his legs. That stupid Potter kid!

“Much better!”, Potter announced, loud. Happily, he walked back from his tree, zipped up his trousers, and jumped back onto his broom.

Draco involuntarily looked over to where Potter had done the deed. He stared at the huge, steaming puddle in the snow. His bladder gave him another twinge.

“Ready? You gotta take a leak, too?”, Potter asked, eager to continue the game.

Draco turned crimson. As if he would piss on a tree like an animal! Right in front of Potter! “No!” He jerked his broom around sharply and surged up into the air. He resumed his circling of the Quidditch pitch. Down below, Potter took off as well. Where had this stupid snitch gone to? The cold air made Draco shiver and for a second he had to clench his legs together. He tried and failed to shuffle into a more comfortable position on his broom.

At that moment, Potter rushed right past him. When Draco turned around, he saw him chasing after the snitch, only meters away. Cursing his inattentiveness, Draco dove after him. He caught up to Potter fast, but the kid already stretched out his hand for the snitch. Draco saw it all like in slow-motion. The snitch danced to the right and Potter had to correct his heading. Draco was almost neck on neck with Potter, he, too, reached for the snitch, the tiny globe only inches from his fingers. Then Potter's hand closed around it and Draco zoomed past him. He couldn't believe it! He had done it again! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

Draco circled around and landed besides Potter.

“I got it!”, the git beamed, stupidly holding up the snitch like a prize.

“That was pure luck! Another round!”, Draco spat at him.

Potter wiped that idiot grin from his face and looked at him sheepishly. “You still won-”

“Give me that!” Draco angrily seized the snitch from Harry and held it up to release it again. It zoomed away. “Now we'll see who's better, Potter! Last one counts!”

Draco surged into the air without looking if Potter even followed him and climbed to his lookout point, then he began searching. Down below, Potter rose up in slow circles around the field. Stupid half-blood! Draco was a better seeker than him! He had just been distracted because he had to pee! That was all. It had just been a fluke! Draco felt another stab in his lower abdomen and he pressed his knees together. Stupid hot chocolate!

He tried to force his mind away from his need for relieve and to concentrate on spotting the snitch. He rubbed his knees together, anxious. The more he tried not to think of how badly he had to pee, the more he thought of it and the more he thought of it, the worse he had piss! Draco bit his lips. For a second, the small pain helped. No! His dad had NOT bought him into the Quidditch team! He was a good seeker! He could do this! Focus!

Clenching his legs together, Draco circled the pitch, searching. He just had to catch that stupid snitch, then he could go to the bathroom!

Draco kept to his patrol for an agonizing ten minutes before he spotted a golden glint next to a nearby tree. He immediately dove down to it. The snitch swerved to the right around the tree. Draco made a sharp turn to cut off its escape. Just when he raced past the tree, his bladder gave him another pang. Draco doubled over and the tiny golden ball zoomed past him. When Draco had turned, it was already gone. Cursing, he started to climb again to resume his search.

Worst of all, that stupid Potter had started to shadow him. For a second Draco moved his hand down to his crotch to give himself a much needed squeeze, but he immediately removed it again when Potter looked over. Draco's bladder felt like it was bursting and he now kept his legs pressed together constantly. He just had to catch the stupid snitch! Draco ground his teeth, his bladder send him another spasm and he hunched over.

Suddenly, Potter dove down. It took Draco a moment to even realise. Muttering another curse, he chased after him. Potter had a head start and he was going fast, but his broom still was crap, Draco quickly gained on him. He didn't even see the snitch, he just knew he couldn't let Potter get it again. Potter swivelled to the left and so did Draco. Draco's bladder pulsed so bad. He was almost at the same height as Potter. Then he saw the snitch, it was right in front of them. They both stretched out their hands, but Potter was still ahead. Potter reached for the tiny ball and – missed it by half an inch and rushed past it! A split-second later, Draco caught it.

They both landed. Potter jumped off his broom and ran over to Draco. “Congratulations!”, he shouted, “you won!”

Draco just stared at him, disbelieving.

“Great catch!”, the ass beamed.

“You did that on purpose!”, Draco muttered, half talking to himself, “you deliberately missed that catch!”

Potter stopped laughing.

“You let me win”, Draco spat. He felt tears well up inside him. Angrily, he screamed: “I don't need your pity!”

He started sobbing and he quickly turned away from Potter before the kid could see his snivelling.

“I'm sorry.” Potter tried to walk around him to face him again, but Draco turned and ran away from him.

“Wait! Malfoy! I'm really sorry!”, Potter cried after him. Draco pretended he didn't hear him and just continued to run. His initial flight had taken him in the direction of the house and when he came to his senses again, Draco went on towards it. He heard Potter chase after him, calling out to him. Draco tried to blink away the tears, he so wished the ground would swallow that stupid Gryffindor! Why couldn't Potter just leave him alone?

The mad throbbing of his bladder forced Draco to slow down. He felt he had dampened his briefs a bit already during his run. At an especially bad pang he fully stopped and grabbed himself.

“Malfoy! I'm sorry!” Draco immediately removed the hand from his crotch and wiped away the tears as Potter caught up to him. He turned towards the house again, but Potter stepped in his way. “Please, I'll give you a rematch!”

“Leave me alone!” Draco shoved him out of the way and rushed past him.

On the terrace, Potter caught him again. He grabbed Draco's sleeve and forced him to stop. “Malfoy, wait!”

“Let go!”, Draco snapped. He was upset and angry and his bladder felt like it was bursting. He tore himself free from Potter's grip, but Potter rushed past him and blocked the door.

“Please! I didn't mean to upset you! I-I thought you wanted to win so bad!”

Draco fought the desperate urge to cross his legs. “Get out of the way!” He tried to push past Potter, but the kid stupidly held on to the door frame.

“Malfoy, I'm sorry! I thought you'd be even more upset if you lost again!”

“Alright!”, Draco hissed. He forced Potter out of the way and rushed past him. Potter ran after him.

Draco stopped in the foyer. Potter was right by him, he just stood there, staring at him stupidly. Draco shot the door to the loo a longing glance. His bladder was aching so bad! He nervously stepped from one foot to the other. “Just give me your broom. You can go to your room while I put them away!”

Potter hesitantly handed him the Shooting Star and Draco fast-walked over to the broom cabinet. He barely took the time to lean his Nimbus on the wall and throw the old Shooting Star in the corner, and he turned around. He could clean them LATER.

Potter still lingered in the hall when Draco exited the broom cabinet. “Sure we're cool?”

“YES”, Draco told him, “just wait upstairs!” He felt another twinge in his lower abdomen and this time he almost flinched. He needed to cross his legs so bad! Giving up the pretence, he pushed past Potter and hobbled towards the bathroom. He had the door half-opened already when Potter pushed past him and blocked the doorway. “You're still upset! I was stupid, OK, I didn't mean-”

“Just drop it already and wait upstairs!”

“But-”

Draco's bladder spasmed and he felt a tiny trickle escape into his briefs. He gasped and doubled over all so slightly. It took all his strength to stem the flood. “Not now, Potter! I gotta ...” Draco trailed off, too embarrassed. He pointed past Potter with his eyes.

Potter turned around. When he realized where the door led, he, too, blushed. He quickly moved out of the way. “I'm sorry! I didn't realise-”

Draco rushed past him and shut the door in his face. He pushed up the toilet lid and, jumping form one foot to the other, pulled at his belt buckle. He had trouble getting it undone with his cold fingers. His bladder was throbbing so madly, a few more trickles dampened his briefs and Draco had to pause for a second to grab himself. Finally, he managed to open his belt. Hurriedly, he tore open his trousers and yanked them down together with his briefs. Then he unleashed the torrent.

As it splattered loudly all over the porcelain, Draco breathed a sigh of relief. It was pure bliss! At that moment, he didn't even care if Potter still lingered outside and could hear him.

After a very, very long time, his stream finally died down. Draco shook off the last drips, then he examined the damage to his briefs. They were quite wet, though to Draco's great relief no damp spot showed on his trousers. With a shudder, he pulled back up his briefs and put his trousers over them. He flushed, put down the lid (he was free to do what he wanted in his bathroom, but here his mom didn't even like him peeing standing up) thoroughly washed his hands and used the mirror to check his trousers for wet spots again. There still were none.

When he exited the bathroom, Potter was gone. At least the annoying kid hadn't stayed to wait! Draco blushed again at the thought of how much he had just embarrassed himself in front of the Gryffindor.

When he went upstairs, he saw Potter in his room, sitting on his bed. The kid looked back at him and opened his mouth to speak, but Draco just rushed past him to his own room and audibly shut the door behind himself.

He waited a moment, but there were no steps outside. For once, Potter appeared to have gotten the message and was going to leave him alone. Draco made sure to lock the door anyways just to be sure before he quickly pulled down his trousers. He took off the wet briefs and, looking around for a place to get rid of them, finally threw them under his bed. Draco got a clean pair of briefs and a shirt from his chest of drawers. He rubbed his skin dry with the shirt as well as he could. The shirt joined the wet undies under the bed, then he put on the new briefs and his trousers.

Draco still felt nasty in his nether region and he had the mad urge to wash his hands again, but he didn't want to leave his room out of fear he would run into Potter. So instead, he sat down on his bed, brooding.

At least Potter stayed in his room and left Draco alone the rest of the day. Which suited Draco just fine and he, too, kept to himself. He had enough reading to do for school anyways.

So Draco was a bit surprised when late that evening, there was a knock on his door. He was just getting ready for bed, was already in his pyjamas. Draco just knew it was Potter. He sighed. “Yes?”

Potter slowly opened the door and looked at him sheepishly, uncertain if he should enter. He, too, was in his pyjamas. “Malfoy?”

Draco just looked at him, silent.

Potter swallowed, then he said: “I really enjoyed playing Quidditch today. It felt like we were really having fun together and not … just pretending. I … I thought you did, too! And … and … I didn't mean to … that is to say, I am really sorry I hurt you!” He lingered a moment longer in the door. “So, uh, have a good night!” Then he turned around and fled back to his room.

Draco hesitated. “Merlin's knickers!”, he silently cursed, pulled himself together and went after Potter. He didn't think to knock before he pulled open the door. The Gryffindor was sitting on his bed in just his pyjama tops and one of those diapers of his, about to strip his pyjama bottoms back on. Potter stared at him, round-eyed and panicked, trying to cover his crotch, pull up his pants and hide the plastic bag that held his diaper stock all at the same time. When he saw that it was just Draco, he relaxed a bit. Draco rethought and, awkward, asked: “May I come in?”

By then Potter had managed to pull up his pyjama bottoms. Embarrassed, he pushed the pack of diapers behind his back, but he nodded his agreement.

Draco got in and closed the door behind himself, then he faced Potter. “I … umh ...”, he said, “I enjoyed playing Quidditch, too … and … umh … I might have overreacted slightly, too. So … umh … I …”, he stuttered.

“That's alright.”

“This is not an apology!”, Draco hastily clarified.

There was an awkward quiet, then Potter said: “You are a good seeker, Draco, you know that, right?”

“But you are a better one, aren't you?”, Draco accused him.

“I don't know. You weren't even trying today.”

“What?”, Draco spluttered.

“With that Shooting Star, how could I possibly beat you? I never stood a chance! You were so sure you'd be better than me in any case, you didn't even try to be the best you could be!”

Draco stared at him, stunned. “That is such Gryffindor hogwash!”

Potter gave him an offended look and they both fell silent again.

“So”, Draco finally broke the uneasy quiet, eying the plastic pack behind Potter's back, “you really wear those every night?”

Potter shrugged.

“But they're diapers!”

“Special underwear!”

Draco harrumphed.

Potter examined his toes, silently, he objected: “It's better than waking up to a wet bed.”

“I guess“, Draco gave in, unconvinced. He looked anywhere but Potter's face.

“So-”, they both said as one.

“... you wanna try one after all?”, Potter asked.

“I'm not wearing a diaper! … I mean, is the offer even still valid?”

Potter pulled a new one out of the pack and held it out to Draco. When Draco didn't take it, he lay it down on the edge of the bed. Draco eyed the thing, ill at ease. Finally, he picked it up after all.

“You may have to stretch the waistband a bit after you unfold them. When you put them on, the front is-”, Potter babbled.

“I know how to put on a pair of briefs!”, Draco snapped.

Potter looked both parts offended and embarrassed.

“Thanks”, Draco muttered. Then he quickly turned around and left.

Back in the safety of his own bedroom, he put down the strange diaper on his pillow to examine it. Underpants! Absorbent underpants, he corrected himself in his mind. He carefully unfolded them. The fabric felt really thick in the crotch, and a bit strange to the touch. The waistband was elastic and, despite its flimsy look, very tight-fitting, just as Potter had said. The closer Draco looked at the dumb thing, the less it seemed to resemble real briefs. He didn't like the stupid pictures of stupid muggle kids on their stupid roller boards printed all over it either!

Draco put the ugly thing back down. Special underpants, Merlin's ass! Who was he kidding, those were diapers! Draco stared at them angrily, picked them up again. Which side was even the front and which the back on those stupid things? He turned them around, unsure. This side had the word “back” printed above the stupid muggle kids. So that was that.

He put the diaper down again and got up to take off his pyjama bottoms. Then, hesitating, he reached for the diaper and slipped it over his feet. The waist was very narrow, so he carefully stretched it a bit before he pulled the thing up. He wasn't entirely sure if he was supposed to point his member any specific direction. After a short deliberation, he decided down probably was best.

He pulled the thing back down a bit again to adjust things in the male department accordingly, and put the diaper back in place. It felt weird, but not too uncomfortable. He cautiously touched it with his hand and ran over its surface with his fingers. It was so thick in the crotch! Embarrassed, Draco grabbed his pyjama bottoms and quickly pulled them over the diaper. Then he lay down on his back.

He looked down on himself, surprised at how inconspicuous the bulge was. Well, duh! Potter had worn those for years and he had managed to keep it a secret! Still, they felt so thick! Draco clumsily crawled under his blanket and put out his night lamp. He caught himself fingering the diaper through his pyjamas and he put his hands above the blanket. Stupid diaper, he thought before he fell asleep.


	27. Saturday, December 25th

When Draco woke up the next day, like usual in the morning, he had to pee quite bad. He always had to, no matter how wet his bed was. But today, his bed was dry! He hadn't had a dry night in like forever! Sadly, his sense of delight was short-lived. That stupid diaper Potter had given him felt awfully damp and heavy and it squished uncomfortably under his weight when he sat up. It felt bloated and made slushy sounds when he carefully pressed against it with his hands and some wetness seeped out on the inside where it touched his skin. Draco shuddered involuntarily.

He quickly got up. The diaper slid down dangerously and dangled between his legs, huge and heavy. Draco stripped it down completely together with his pyjama bottoms. It tangled around his ankles and he awkwardly fought with it to free his feet from the mess, hurriedly he stepped away from it. Then, very hesitant, he picked the diaper up again – he had to get rid of the awful thing – it was so heavy compared to the evening before! As he got up, he eyed his bed. Though, it was kind of better than a wet bed. Holding the diaper at arm's length, he hurried out, only pausing at the door to peek out and make sure the coast was clear. The hallway lay deserted and the door to Potter's room was still closed.

Draco quickly ran over to the bathroom where he immediately dropped the diaper into the trash. Then he stepped up to the toilet for a good, long, badly needed pee. After he had relieved himself, he flushed and went and washed his hands. He took off his pyjama shirt as well. Draco was about to throw it into the laundry basket when he hesitated. He had only worn it once and it was still clean, he could wear it again tonight, he thought with a smile. So he folded it up and put it on the side of the sink instead. It was definitely nice to wake up in a dry pyjama for a change! He turned on the water and jumped under the shower. There still was that awful sticky feeling of stale piss around his privates, but the hot water washed it all away. Draco loved that clean feeling and the water jets massaging his back.

The better part of a quarter of an hour later Draco still stood under the shower, when Potter knocked on the door. “You taking long, Malfoy?”

“I'm under the shower”, Draco informed him unnecessarily.

“Hurry up!”

“I'm gonna be a while.”

“I have to use the loo!”, Potter whined.

Draco rolled his eyes, he almost felt embarrassed for Potter. Merlin's pants, did Potter know no shame at all? But he was in a good mood that morning and it was Christmas after all, so he quickly rinsed off.

Potter banged on the door again. “Malfoy, please, just let me quickly use the toilet!”

“Yes, yes, just a second! I have to towel off!” On second thought, Draco didn't particularly hurry when he reached for his towel and slowly began to dry off his hair, then his face and chest. Potter continued to whine. Draco was at his arms when the door handle creaked. A second later, Potter burst into the room. Dragon dung! He hadn't locked the door in his hurry!

“Hey! Get out, Potter!”

“Sorry!”, the kid murmured, barely looking back at Draco as he made a beeline for the loo. Still a step away from the toilet, Potter already yanked down his pants. Immediately, piss went everywhere. Potter peed all over the floor and the toilet before, half a second later, he properly situated himself in front of the bowl and aimed his member down.

It had all happened so fast, Draco had just been gawking at him. He saw the bloated form of Potter's diaper through his pyjama pants, dangling heavily between his legs. As he watched, a few fresh blotches of wetness formed around the waistband and crotch. That diaper of his clearly was beyind its limit. Potter probably had already lost it when he had stormed in and had been pissing himself all the way while running. Suddenly, Draco realised where he was staring, he blushed and hurriedly turned his back.

“Can't you wait even a minute?”, he huffed, embarrassed for the both of them.

“Sorry! Ahh ... that feels so good!”, Potter sighed.

Draco felt himself blush even more in his stead. “You're making a mess!”

“Sorry.”

For the longest moment, there was just the sound of Potter's piss splattering on the porcelain. Finally, it died down. When Potter flushed the toilet, Draco turned back to face him again. Potter washed his hands, he shot Draco an uncomfortable look. “I'll wait outside.” He pulled his pyjama bottoms back up, but the saggy diaper kept on dragging them down again.

“Stay!”, Draco said, “I'm almost done anyways.”

He quickly proceeded to dry off his lower body. Potter stood there, indecisive, looking sheepish. He pulled up his pants again. Finally, he gave up on it, pulled them down to his knees instead, revealing the bloated diaper dangling between his legs. He shot Draco an embarrassed look, then he quickly grabbed the diaper at one side and ripped apart the flimsy fabric there. He repeated the same on the other side and pulled the diaper out from between his legs. He quickly scrunched it up to a ball which he dropped into the waste bin.

“So … you worn one, too, tonight?”, he clumsily made conversation.

Draco carefully dried his feet without making eye-contact. Finally, stepped out of the tub.

“It's better than a wet bed, isn't it?”, Potter chattered on.

“I guess”, Draco allowed. He turned towards the door. “Shower is yours.”

But Potter babbled on: “You can buy them at muggle department stores and supermarkets. You could ask your mom or dad ...” Draco was mortified at the mere thought. Of cause his dad knew of his bedwetting issues, but they never talked about it. And his dad would kill him if he suggested they set foot in a muggle store. “... your parents could even send you some via owl when you run out. Mrs Weasley buys mine for me. I was really embarrassed at first, but-”

Draco sputtered: “Weasley knows? You told your friends you wet the bed?”

“No! They don't. Only Ron's mom knows. You can't tell him, OK!”

“Like I'd snitch to the Weasel!”

 

* * *

 

After breakfast, they got to open their presents. Draco raced Potter to the parlour, where a huge heap of parcels awaited them below the christmas tree. Draco dug into them at once, grbbed the biggest package and checked the label. Of cause it was for him, he ripped off the paper. It was a Wimbourne Wasps quidditch ball set from his dad, in a wooden collectors box, studded in brass and hand-signed by the entire team. Nice!

But it was Theo's present that gave him pause. Thoe had gotten him a heart-shaped silver locket with his name engraved onto it. Draco stared at it, speechless. Theo couldn't possibly expect him to wear THAT … Still staring at the thing, Draco noticed that Potter was looking over. He blushed profusely and hurriedly stuffed the locket into his pocket. Potter smirked at him, but he didn't say a word.

Draco stared back at him, embarrassed. “Nice sweater!”, he tried to deflect the attention, pointing at the scarlet jumper Potter was holding. Potter turned it around for him to show off the retarded-looking Gryffindor lion knitted on the front. Draco wouldn't have been caught dead wearing that thing, but Potter seemed genuinely happy about it. “It's from Mrs Weasley, she makes me one every year. She send me some home-baked prezels and mince pies, too!”

Potter prattled on about the sweets he had gotten when Draco noticed a long, thin packet at the bottom of the heap. He couldn't believe his eyes. Hurriedly, he pulled it free. Merlin's pants! His dad had gotten him a Firebolt after all! He was about to rip open the package when he saw the label. 'To Harry Potter' it read. Draco's heart dropped.

Of cause, how stupid of him to get all worked up. It was kind of expected, Potter having lost his broom and needing a replacement and all. Though, he wondered whom it was from, the label didn't say. Draco realised that he was still holding the broom package. “Um”, he said, “this one is for you.”

Potter looked up, and put down the matching scarlet bonnet to his sweeter he had just unwrapped. “Wow, that's big”, he muttered.

Draco ignored him and instead snatched up another parcel. This one was from his aunt, she had send him the golden pocket watch he had asked her for.

“I don't believe it”, Potter baaed, “it's a Firebolt!”

Draco looked up. His eyes grew bigger and bigger as they wandered from the sleek birch-twig tail up the perfectly polished ebony handle to the golden registration number at the top. He dropped the watch. It was indeed a Firebolt. Potter was holding a Firebolt! Potter let go of the magnificent broom and it hovered in the air, perfectly still, at exactly the right height to be mounted.

Draco just stared at it, he felt sick.

“Who send you that?”, he croaked.

“Dunno ...”, Potter said and rummaged through the wrappings. “It doesn't say and there isn't a card.”

“Bet it was Dunbledore!”, Draco spat. He felt a sudden rush of envy and anger as he put two and two together.

“Dumbledore wouldn't send me something like this! He can't go spending hundreds of Galleons on a student-”

“Exactly! That's why it doesn't say who it's from!”

“I can't believe this” Potter muttered, awestruck, slowly running his hands over the handle.

Draco just stared at him, barely able to contain himself. It took him a moment to realize that Potter had stopped fondling the Firebolt and was looking back at him, uneasy. “I'm going to try it out. You wanna come with me?”, Potter asked.

Draco remembered their quidditch practice the previous day all too well. And how he had brushed Potter off when he ha asked to switch brooms just once. He knew Potter was just going to tease him, but he couldn't help himself.

“Yes”, he croaked, “Can I fly it, too?”

Draco felt like throwing up.

“OK, but you have to let me try your Nimbus 2001!”

It took Draco a full three seconds to process Potter's words. Then, he immediately agreed and, their other presents forgotten, the two rushed off to get Draco's broom.

Draco's mom stopped them at the door. “Where are you two off to that early in the morning?”

“Potter got a Firebolt!”, the two talked over each other, excited, and Potter showed the broom to her. “We're giving it a test flight!”, Draco said, then, remembering himself, he added: “May we?”

To his surprise, his mom didn't seem to share their enthusiasm.

“Who send you that?”, she asked.

“I don't know”, Potter said, “there was no note or anything on it.”

“Probably Dumbledore!”, Draco blurted out.

“May I see it for a moment?”, his mom asked. She didn't wait for an answer and took the Firebolt out of Potter's hands. Taking the broom with her, she went over to Draco's dad's study. The two boys followed her. “Mom, can we get the broom back now?” She ignored them, instead, she asked Draco's dad: “Dear, did anyone give you a broom for Harry?” – “No.” – “Do you have any idea how this got into the house then?” Draco listened to their exchange in growing despair. Now his dad came over to look over the Firebolt as well.

When his mom turned back to them, she looked worried. “I'm afraid I'll have to take this.”

“WHAT?”, Draco and Potter both said. Draco's dad shot him a stern look and threateningly raised his cane.

“You can't!”, Potter protested.

“Why?”, Draco asked, silent.

“You'll get it back, Harry! But first it will have to be checked for jinxes. I'll contact your house teacher, she'll probably want to strip it down herself-”

“No, mom!”, Draco said, horrified at the thought.

“There is nothing wrong with the broom!”, Potter agreed.

Draco's dad made a step closer, but his mom stopped him with her hand. “You can't know that, Harry!”, she said, almost gently, “not until you've tried flying it. And that's out of question, Merlin knows what might happen if it has been tampered with. It won't take more than a few weeks-”

“Weeks?”, Potter gasped.

“I'm sorry.” Ignoring their continued protests, Draco's mom ushered them out and closed the door into their faces, keeping the Firebolt. The two boys exchanged a furious look.

“Your mom is stupid!”, Potter accused Draco.

“Don't insult my mom!”, Draco hissed back, angry, “and yes she is!” He spun around and ran back to his room. He couldn't believe Potter would have let him fly the Firebolt. And his mom had ruined it! He spend the rest of the morning alone in his room, sulking.

 

* * *

 

It was afternoon already before Draco had calmed down again. He still was angry at his mom and she only managed to lure him out of his room because she allowed him to call Theo to wish him a Merry Christmas. So Draco went down to the parlour and sat by the fireplace. He had barely cast the floo powder into the fireplace when Theo's face already appeared in the flames.

“Hi, merry Christmas!”, he said, breathlessly, like he had been running over to the fireplace. “Missed you!”

They hadn't been able to talk the previous night, because Draco feared his parents would catch him when they arranged the presents. Draco cast a quick look over his shoulder to make sure his mom hadn't stayed to eavesdrop. “Missed you, too! Merry Christmas!”

“Did you get my present?”, Theo asked.

Draco turned crimson. He nodded. “You like mine?” He had gotten Theo a book about quidditch.

Theo smiled sadly. “Yeah, it's the best thing I got!”

“Stupid liar! It's a crap present and I'm sorry!”

“No, honest!”

Draco tried to grin.

Then it burst out of him: “Potter got a Firebolt!” And he rattled down everything that had happened, how crappy his presents were compared to Potter's Firebolt and how this was the worst Christmas ever. Theo just listened, silent. Finally, Draco stopped. He noticed that Theo looked depressed, too. Awkward, he asked: “Hey, everything OK with you? I'll make up for it, I'll buy you a real present!”

“No! No. I told you it's great!” Theo sighed. “It's my dad.”

“Got crappy presents?”

“No, they're great … I guess”, Theo disagreed, unconvincing. “Dad got me all this real grown-up stuff. I got a master's potion-making kit and this grimoire on forbidden magic-”

“That is so cool!”

Theo looked at him, unhappy. “I was just browsing the index and it was whispering stuff in my head in a weird language! I don't even dare open it again. That thing is, like, seriously dangerous! And that alchemy book dad got me with the potions kit, it's way above N.E.W.T.-level! Dad never even asked me if I want to continue with potions after our O.W.L.s, he just assumes because he's got a hand for it ...”

“But you love potions!”

“I guess so. I don't know. I just wished he would ask what I want just for once”, Theo sighed, “oh, by the way, dad got me this.” He held up a black dragon leather jacket with the word 'Spellbound' in three-inch-high letters on the back.

Draco eyed it, awkward. “I didn't know you were a fan.”

“I asked him for a Weird Sisters jacket. Dad can't even tell the difference!”, Theo disappeared for a second, when he returned, he said: “I have to go, he just called me for dinner.”

“At least your dad is spending time with you! I'm stuck with Potter!”, Draco tried to cheer him up.

“It's the first time he's come out of his potions lab for more than a few hours and this morning he told me he'll have to leave on some assignment early tomorrow. I'll be stuck alone at home for the rest of the holidays.” Theo said, depressed. “I wished I could spend that time with you instead!”

“Yeah”, Draco agreed.

“Gotta go, dad just called me again! See you tonight! Really, really miss you!”

“Me, too!”, Draco murmured. He quickly bowed forward and pressed a kiss on Theo's lips, then Theo's head vanished in the flames.

Draco had barely gotten up when the fire flared up again. Happy, he knelt back down, expecting Theo had forgotten something, but it was Ron Weasley's head that appeared in the ambers. “Hello?”, he asked, then he saw Draco, “oh, Malfoy.”

“Weasley.”

“Man, your fireplace is blocked all the time. I tried calling three times already-”

“What do you want, Weasel?”

“I wanted to wish Harry a merry Christmas.”

“I'll tell him. Now get out of my fireplace!”

“I want to talk to Harry myself! To make sure you treat him alright!”

Draco harrumphed. “What? That's ridiculous! You think my parents took him prisoner or something?”

Weasley just stared at him, distrustful.

“He's a guest, you git! You just gonna insult-”

“That's it! I'm getting Harry out of there-!”

Weasley's head was pushed to the side and instead, that mudblood Granger appeared in the flames. Great, the whole lot of them!

“Malfoy, please, just let us talk to him for a second!”

“Merlin's knickers! Fuck this, I'll get him! Just wait!”

 

* * *

 

Harry was sitting on his bed, trying to concentrate on the textbook that lay in his lap, unread. A Firebolt! He still couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe either that Malfoy's mom had taken it – even Malfoy had been furious. Man, he had been so jealous when he had first seen the Firebolt! Harry actually had felt a bit sorry for him.

A loud bang on the door ripped him from his thoughts. “Potter? You in there? Get your ass down to the parlour! Weasley's calling.”

Harry was on his feet and at the door in a second. “For real?”

“No, I just missed talking to you so much. Of cause he is! Your sweetheart Granger is with him, too.”

Harry almost flew down the stairs.

He crouched down in front of the fireplace. “Hermione! You're with Ron?”

Hermione moved to the side a bit and Ron's head appeared next to hers in the flames. “Are you alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, it's so good to see you guys! You're at Ron's place, Hermione? I thought you went skiing?”

The two quickly filled Harry in. Hermione and her parents had had to cut short their vacation after her dad had broken a leg, though she assured him that he was fine otherwise. When she had written Ron about it, he had invited her to the Burrows for the remainder of the holidays.

“We wanted to write to you, too, but mom said Errol needed to recover first after the long trip to Hermione”, Ron said.

“So Ron tried flooing you, but we didn't get through till now”, Hermione added.

“Malfoy mentioned something about the fireplace being warded”, Harry said.

“So how have you been?”, Hermione asked.

“I'm so gonna hex Malfoy if he's done anything-”, Ron muttered.

“Guys, you won't believe this!”, Harry said. Then he told them about the Firebolt.

“Dragon dung! You're serious? A Firebolt?”, Ron blurted, “and that bitch took it away from you?”

“Ron!”, Hermione interjected, indignant, “there really wasn't any note with it?”

“I bet it's from Dumbledore!”, Ron said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not you as well!”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Potter, dinner!”, Malfoy called from down the hall.

“Yes, just a moment!”, Harry replied. “Sorry. It can't be Dumbledore. He wouldn't!”

“No, I know! I know who it is from! Lupin!”

“Lupin?”, Harry shook his head. “I don't think he has that kind of money.”

“I think Mrs Malfoy might be right”, Hermione said, silent.

“WHAT?”, Harry and Ron both screamed at her.

“Well, think about it! Who would send Harry a broom like that and sneak it past the Malfoys' security? It's obvious, isn't it?”

The boys stared at her, blankly.

“That broom was probably send to you by Sirius Black!”

Ron's eyes went wide. “They're in it together! You have to get out of there, Harry!”

“Why would Mrs Malfoy have taken the broom then? Besides, I can't! Where would I even go?”

“You come here with us, of cause! Mom would gladly have you!”

“There's nothing I'd rather do, honest!”

“Don't tell me you like it there!”

“No, of cause not! It's awful here! Of cause I would rather be with you than with that ass Malfoy ...”

Hermione and Ron were both signalling him with their eyes and Harry turned around. Malfoy was standing in the doorway, staring at him.

“Malfoy-”, Harry said as he got up, raising his hands in a peaceful manner.

The Slytherin rushed him and grabbed his collar. He pushed Harry away from the fireplace into a corner.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to insult you! But you said you hate it, too, that's all I meant to say. I didn't-”

“Merlin's ass, will you shut up!”, Malfoy spat at him. Then he smirked. “Man, that is brilliant! And you and that half-wit Weasley don't even realise!”

Harry looked at him, confused.

Malfoy explained his idea to him. Finally, Harry hesitantly agreed and called back Ron.

During dinner, Malfoy began to set the plan into motion. He told his parents that Ron had called. “He's invited Harry and me to spend next week at his place”, he said, matter-of-factly, “I already accepted the invitation.”

“But honey-”, his mom interjected.

“You're not going!”, his father declared.

“I already promised I would”, Malfoy hesitantly argued. He indicated Harry with his eyes.

“No.”

“But dad!” Malfoy continued to roll his eyes at his parents until they caught on.

“Harry, dear, would you wait at your room?”, Mrs Malfoy said, “we have to talk to Draco about something.”

Harry quickly pushed his plate away and got up. When he went past Malfoy, Malfoy winked at him. Harry went outside and closed the door behind himself, but instead of going to his room, he cowered down and put his ear on the door to listen.

“What would you have me do instead?”, Malfoy complained, “You told me to get friends with that stupid prick Potter! And now the idiot is finally starting to fall for it. Weasley invited him over and all of the sudden Potter asks if he can bring me, too. And that son of a blood-traitor agreed! What was I supposed to say? That I'd rather starve than eat the food they touched with their grubby hands? Do you think I'm looking forward to sleeping in that rat-infested shack of theirs?”

Harry knew Malfoy was following their plan and just trying convince his parents. Still, he was playing his role quite convincingly and Harry doubted there was much acting involved. It hurt to hear him talk about his friends like that.

When the voices inside fell silent, Harry hurriedly retreated to the stairs, not a moment too early. The door flung open and Malfoy came running, the smuggest grin all over his face. “You heard?”, he whispered, excited.

Harry nodded, darkly.

Malfoy didn't catch on to his mood. He just beamed at him: “Told you it would work! Piece of cake.”

Harry so wanted to hit that arrogant prick, but he swallowed his anger. This was his chance to spend the rest of the holidays with his friends and he didn't want to mess it up by fighting with Malfoy now.


End file.
